Young Blood
by fiction.is.life
Summary: “Dad, Dean’s trapped in his seven year old body. The worst part is, his mind’s just the same." Now Updated with Chap. 25!
1. Chapter 1

Title: **Young** **Blood**

Fandom: Supernatural, somewhere S1; most likely after Shadows.

**Disclaimer: **The characters used are not owned by me. They are owned by the CW and its creator Eric Kripke.

**Characters:** John, Dean, Sam

**Warnings**: Contains spanking (though not this chapter) and swearing. If that doesn't appeal to you, please don't continue to read:D

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"Dude, _calm_ _down_." 

"You want me to calm? Really?"

Sam sighed. Yes, it would be nice if his brother could calm down. But, for once, he really couldn't blame the guy. He'd probably be throwing a fight right now if it was him.

"Look, just go use the bathroom and I'll…" Sam had a grim look on his face he really hadn't wanted to result to this, but it looked like there would be no other avenue for them.

"Sammy!"

"I'll call Dad."

"Thank you."

Dean stomped his way to the bathroom and then closed the door with all the force that he could muster.

Sam sighed; he grabbed his cell from his coat and lied down on the bed the first bed, usually reserved for Dean. It was really hard to prove their independency if they kept calling their father for help. It would be nice though if he finally called them back.

John made his way through the forest to his truck. He had finally killed the damn thing that he had been chasing the whole damn week. The only thing that he wanted to do right now was get to his motel room and sleep for the next two or three days.

Sighing heavily, he tossed his bag into the back of the truck and opened the driver's door.

_Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnggggggggggggggg_

John looked at the ritually silent cell that rested on the passenger's seat. He slipped in behind the wheel and then closed the door, all the while staring at the ringing little contraption.

_Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnggggggggggggggg_

John grabbed the cell and looked down at the name.

"Sammy?" Shaking his head in disbelief he then pressed the green button.

"Winchester," he relied into the cell, trying to sound casual as he turned on the truck and began to drive over to the highway.

"Dad? It's, um, It's Sam."

"Sammy? What's wrong? You boys okay?"

"Technically, yeah."

John sighed. His youngest son really could be difficult.

"Sammy, what's that supposed to mean? You hurt? How's your brother?"

"We're okay, physically. But-"

John waited for Sam to continue. He could hear the kid groaning and trying to find a way to speak. John entered the highway and sighed heavily, it never had been easy talking to his youngest. Especially when he had no idea what they were after and he couldn't see his facial expressions to know whether or not he was lying to him.

"Sam!"

"Yes sir?"

"Sammy, what is it? What were you after?"

"Don't know," Sam muttered softly into the cell, obviously hoping that he wouldn't hear the response.

"What! Oh god, Sam! What the hell! What the first thing I taught you boys?!"

"That you had to be extra careful with jeans' zippers?"

He could hear the amusement in Sam's voice.

"Samuel," he said instead, hoping that the stern voice would still carry over the line.

"That we should know what we're after, before we walk into it."

"That's right. _Before._ Not when something's gone wrong afterwards. Now, what went wrong?"

There was a little commotion on the other end and John thought he heard Sam talking with someone; probably Dean, thought the voice sounded _odd_ to be Dean.

"Dad?"

"Still here," John replied as he took the exit to his motel.

"Ok, you gotta promise not to get mad, or laugh."

"What? Sam, you know I don't like playing these games. Tell me what's going on, now."

"No," came his youngest' stubborn reply. "You've got to promise, that's just how it is."

"Ugh, fine. I promise. Now, what is it?"

"Last night, Dean got cut up by the creature that we were after. Tonight, he woke up and he was seven."

"What?"

"Dad, Dean's trapped in his seven year old body. The worst part is, his mind's just the same."

To Be Continued...

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**Well, that was my first chapter, hope you like :D PLEASE REVIEW!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: Young Blood**

**Fandom: Supernatural**

**Disclaimer: The characters used are not owned by me. They are owned by the CW and its creator Eric Kripke.**

**Characters: John, Dean, Sam**

**Warnings: Contains spanking (though not this chapter) and swearing**

**Feedback: **Yes please!!

**Archive**: Please Ask Me, I rarely say no!

**Thanks to all the lovely reviews and alerts:D**

**

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Chapter Two

Sam groaned as he closed the cell.

"What'd he say?"

Looking up and over to the second bed where Dean sat perched on his knees, Sam sighed heavily for what felt like the hundredth time that morning.

"He said that he could be here by tomorrow morning at the latest. He wants at least three hours of sleep before leaving first though."

"WHAT! He's going to sleep while I'm having a freaking _crisis_!"

"He just finished a hunt, Dean. You've got to rest you know. I mean, we can handle this today, right?"

"Like we really have another choice."

**_fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl _**

John settled into the motel bed after having spent a good hour in the shower. He had been trying to think up what kind of demon, or other creature would be able to turn a person back in age and why. The why really, _really_ didn't look good for his boy.

He tried to calm down enough that he would be able to sleep some, but he just couldn't. God, when Dean _had_ been seven, and Sammy had been only three at the time, and they had both been into everything.

John sighed as he twisted around in the bed, trying to find a more comfortable position. But he couldn't all he kept thinking was that there he was, John Winchester Ghostbuster Extraordinaire, and he wasn't even rushing to be at his kid's side?

"Ah, screw that!" he grumbled as he shoved the comforter off of his body. He grabbed for his clothes, quickly packed his bags and then he was at the office checking out before he had even registered that he had decided on not sleeping.

His sons needed him right now and the truth was that he really wanted to see them. He'd sleep once he saw with his own eyes that they were in fact fine.

Disregarding Dean's current condition.

**_fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl _**

Sam sighed as he tried to convince Dean that even though he didn't _think_ like a seven year old, that he was in fact the size of a seven year old and would be seen as such.

"Don't mean I have to ACT like it!"

Again, Sam sighed. He looked over to his brother. They had just returned from getting lunch, and the entire event had been a catastrophe. First, Dean had insisted on buying way too much food. Even after Sam and the waitress herself had recommended that he lessen his order, he held stubborn and so began eating his two stacks of pancakes, sausage, and scrambled eggs. He barely finished his first plate. Then, to top it off, he almost had a meltdown when by no measure would Sam allow him coffee. Not even his charm could coax the waitress to give him some. Because seven year olds just don't drink coffee.

And don't even get Sam started on the whole battle for the car keys.

"Yes, you do! It looks weird if you're trying to order coffee or fighting with me to be able to drive. So quit it!"

"I _need_ coffee, and it's MY CAR!"

"That doesn't matter! What matters is that you don't bring attention to us. If you haven't noticed, there's no documentation saying that you even exist at this age. Unless, you think that your driver's license will be suffice cause it's _yours_."

"You suck."

"Well that's just how it is, buddy."

"_Stop doing that!"_

And again Sam sighed.

"Dude, I already told you, I don't mean anything against you by that!"

"Don't care," muttered Dean.

And Sam was just minutes away from killing his brother.

**_fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl _**

John neared the exit that he knew would take him to his sons' room. He had made better time than he had planned – a whole two hours earlier than he had planned. It was barely dinner time when he pulled into the motel's parking lot and spotted his old '67 Chevy Impala.

Parking his truck, John made his way to the door, stilling when he heard arguing voices on the other side.

He could make out the first voice, the deeper one, but the second voice was _weird_. Now the first definably belongs to his son Sam, but the second..

_Dean! Cut it out!_

_Why Sammy! If I'm going to be stuck like this, then I'm going to make the damn best of it! _

Oh god, thought John as he shook his head. If that low-pitch squeal had been Dean, he was really going to be in shock soon, he could feel it. Not only that, but his eldest was a stubborn son of a bitch and he hadn't been any better as a little kid either.

Raising his fist to the door, John held his breath in anticipation of what he was to see.

**_fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl _**

Sam heard the knock before Dean. He sat up abruptly and glanced over to the door.

"What the hell?"

"I'm twenty-seven for fucks sake! Just cause I'm stuck like this don't mean nothing. And if I want to go and sneak into a bar to get some very much needed beer than I will!"

Dean was running around the room trying to find something in his or Sammy's bag that would fit him so that he could go out. At first, Sam had pulled away the bags and had started to argue against it. Now, since he had thought about it and realized that there was no clothes from either one of them that would fit the little body, he had let his brother run his frustration out on the duffels.

Secondly, Little Dean looked pretty cute tossing the clothes all over the places thinking that Sam would just let him leave like that.

"Shh," Sam hissed out as he signaled with his hand for Dean to silence.

"What now?"

Again, the knock returned and now Dean heard it too.

"Whazat?"

Sam rolled his eyes. His older brother looked so frazzled.

"Who is it?" Sam calls out, taking a step towards the door, subconsciously sticking his arm out to stop Dean from approaching it first.

"_Sam_," growl-whispered Dean, as he tried to shove Sam's arm away.

Along with the size came the loss of power and Dean found that he could not move the solid arm in front of him.

"Boys," a familiar growl called in. "Open up."

"It's Dad!" Dean yelled. He dropped to his knees and crawled under Sam's arm to the door.

"Dean! Wait, you don't even know if it's really him!"

But Dean's mind wasn't thinking about that. It was thinking that his father was finally there and that his father would make it all better.

"Dad!" yelled Dean swinging the door open.

**_fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl _**

John was leaning on the door frame and was startled to see the door flip open so soon and suddenly.

"Dean?"

"Hey Dad!" Dean stood there grinning like he'd just received the best Christmas present ever.

John stared down at the small from of his once 6'2" son. This kid was barely three and a half feet and was only wearing a long gray tee. Blinking, John allowed the image to just sink in and be bypassed. He'd seen some pretty strange things in his day.

"Did you just open the door like that? Not even bothering to check who was on the other side?"

Dean's smile faltered slightly at the stern tone in the question. He looked into the room, to Sammy, and then back to his father.

"No Dad, Sam asked and I checked. 'Sides I knew it was you," Dean began to shrug, but then remembering how much his father hated that movement tilted his head instead to poise as more innocent.

John stared down at his son. He looked every bit the same way that he had the time that he _had been _seven. And that little kid just so happened to be a sucky liar.

"Liar" John growled at him. He grabbed Dean's arm and then proceeded to enter the room.

"Hey Dad!" Sam said a little less enthusiastically.

"Sammy, how you boys' doing?" John asked his age old question before having to worry yet about what was up with Dean.

Usually, it was Dean who he asked. But the truth was, he felt kind of odd asking a _kid_ that. Even if the kid was Dean.

Dean didn't take this too well.

Before Sam even got a chance to answer, Dean yanked his arm away from his father's grasp and turned to face him now.

"Hey man, I'm right here, if you wanna ask about me, ask me."

John looked down to his son. Not even at his, um _real_ age would Dean dare to talk to him like that. He could understand that the kid wasn't having a good day, but he hadn't had an easy day either and had spent too much time alone in the car with nothing but his thoughts passing though his mind.

And they hadn't been happy thoughts either. No they were memories. A recollection of all the bad occurrences that the boys got into as little children. Especially Dean.

Looking up to see Sam's reaction, he could tell by his youngest roll of his eyes that Dean's current behavior wasn't new. And judging by what he had heard through the door, it wasn't fanning out so well.

"I'll get to _you_ in a second. I want _Sam_ to respond because he was the one that called me. So you'll have your turn, because believe me _this _needs an explanation."

"We're fine Dad," Sam says quickly, not liking the look on either of the other Winchester's faces.

Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes and still looking up at John.

"Define 'fine'" Dean gritted.

"Well, we're not hurt. No blood I- I mean, yesterday wasn't pretty, but today we're fine."

John nodded. For them, if there was no need for medical attention, then everything was fine.

"Okay, so what happened?"

To Be Continued...

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A/N: Well, I really shouldn't have posted this story the day before HP 5 came out, lol. It's taken up all of my time! And now with the new book...But, I was able to get a few minutes away and post this for all you lovely people :D So, please review, because you know you love this :D (or not, that's cool, since it was just so much fun to write anyways!!!)


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: Young Blood **

**Fandom: **Supernatural

**Disclaimer: **The characters used are not owned by me. They are owned by the CW and its creator Eric Kripke.

**Characters: **John, Dean, Sam

**Warnings: **Contains spanking (some swats in this chapter) and swearing

**Feedback: **Yes please!!

**Archive**: Please Ask Me, I rarely say no!

YOU GUYS ALL ROCK! THANKS FOR THE ALERTS AND REVIEWS!

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Chapter Three 

Sam explained how they had read up on the disappearances of young men and women in the area. These people had been having pretty decent, dare they say happy, lives. No one understood why they would just up and leave?

Now, normally, that alone wouldn't have brought them to the town. I mean the cops _had _to be good for something for once right? So, when he had found the article about that little boy turning up the next town over, telling the sheriff there that he knew about this disappeared man, Sam had thought that he – and the following children – had seen some kind of premonition or had gotten a mental link with the captives.

The cops hadn't of had much better luck with them either.

"So," John started from where he now sat at the table. His elbows were on the table and he had had his head rested between his hands. He had been in that position for the last fives minutes, half of the story. "I guess it never occurred to you that these children might in fact _be_ the missing people?"

Sam and Dean looked at each other. The thought had obviously never crossed their minds.

John sighed. Sometimes, his sons really did miss out on the most obvious reason. Always complicating things for themselves.

"Might have saved you from this," John said gesturing towards Dean.

Dean glowered up at his father. He sat in front of the man, feet swing beneath the table, tiny hands grasping a plastic cup filled with milk. Neither thing had been his request, which had been a glass of cold beer. Sammy had said that he really shouldn't handle glass and his father had made a stern statement that the only thing he would be having would be milk. Even if he _was_ 27, his body was 7 and would be treated as such. And seeing as the second choice had been the beer…

"That little shit didn't curse me. It attacked me!"

John looked back across the table to his son. He had never noticed the mouth on that one.

"Dean, calm down. I get that your pretty pissed about this, but you're really not helping here. So can it."

"Can it? Seriously Dad? I don't really think that you get this. This isn't cute or funny. I'm stuck like this and I want out! I already know what happened, I got turned to some little punk, what I need is a way back!"

A little punk was right, John thought. His sons had never been that way when they had been little. How Dean had turned out to be so rude and arrogant was beyond him. Sure, the kid was a smart ass, but never towards him, and not during a case.

"Dean, cut it out. Now. I'm trying to help you here, but I have to know the facts. That's just how this works. I'm not going to jump into this, risk you, just because your anxious to be big again. It could've been worse, so _can it._"

Dean looked at his father as if he had grown a second head. Or lost his mind. Looking over to Sam for some kind of pull on the subject, he could see his brother's understanding, pleading look and knew that the little bitch had sided with their father.

"Oh, Fuck This!"

Dean pushed off his seat and grabbed at his coat. It was more out of habit than anything, because he really couldn't pull it on well. Making a move to get his keys off the side table next to the door, Dean tossed the coat aside intent on leaving in just his boxers and long tee.

"Dean! What the hell are you doing?"

"You two can figure this out, I'll be at the bar," Dean growled his reply not bothering to turn back to look at them.

Had he looked back, he would've noticed that both men were out of their seats and that the look on his father's face didn't prove to be very promising for him.

"The hell you are," John said instead. Taking two steps forward, he was able to intercept Dean before he reached the Impala's keys.

"Dad, get out of my way."

"No. Listen, you're not going out and that's final. No way in hell are you driving either. I already made it clear to you that while your in that body, there will be no alcoholic consumption. Period."

"Dad, I'm 27, you can't tell me what to do!"

John sighed heavily as he kneeled downright into Dean's face.

"Guess what, I can. I'm your father, whether you're 27, 7, 2 or 50. So you listen to me and that's final. Second, you _are_ a kid and its dark out and there's no way in hell that you can leave. A whole load of things can happen to you. So, you either start acting how I raised you to act, or I'm going to have to set the rules back into you."

Dean's face took slight panic towards his father. He had heard everything that his Dad had said, but there was no way that he had meant that. He was 27, contrary to what he looked.

And _that_ just didn't happen to twenty-seven year olds.

John noticed the grim look that passed through Dean's young face. He took an odd, long quieted satisfaction that the kid had taken him seriously. Then, just as quickly, Dean's face went from one of terror to one of anger. John could feel the kid stiffen up and his posture straighten out. Apparently, Dean was going to be trouble.

"No Way! I don't care how or why or where or whatever! You can't see it now, but I'm an adult and I'm not gunna let you. _So get out of my fucking way_!"

Dean yelled the last bit. He went to shove his father aside, but found that like always, John was a rock; a force to be reckoned with.

John growled at the outburst. He really hated seeing his son this distressed, but there was no way he would allowed this level of disrespect.

Reaching out, John grabbed at Dean's arm tightly. With his other hand, he slapped Dean on the mouth.

"Ow!" Dean yelled at the impact. Opening his mouth to protest, he felt his arm gripped harder.

John gave Dean's small arm a shake.

"Listen here, kid. Cut the _shit_. I hear that word out of you again, and I'll make sure you can't seat for a week, that clear?" asked John in his stern voice.

"Yes sir," Dean replied out of instinct and fear. He hadn't been spanked for a good ten years, when he had gotten really wasted at this bar he wasn't allowed to be at. To make matters worst for himself, he came stumbling home at 1230, two hours after his curfew.

"Good. Now get your ass back to the table and get your act together, fast. You're not going _anywhere_. Understood?"

Dean nodded quickly, but John wasn't in the mood for the silent approached. Using the arm that he still had held in has hand, Dean was turned to his side and two heavy swats were placed on his backside.

"Ah! Dad, stop!"

"Understood?" repeated John.

"Yes sir, I understand. 'M not gonna go nowhere."

John released his arm and Dean stepped back away from him before turning and dashing back to the table like he'd been told. The two swats had hurt more than he remembered. If that had hurt, he definably didn't need a repeat, or god forbid an actual spanking. Sure made him wonder how he handled it as a child.

Standing back up, John turned around and saw his 'youngest' scramble back into his seat. Look over to his _youngest_, he noted the strange look on Sam's face. Sighing, thinking that it was because of how he'd acted with Dean, John began to explain himself but found Sam's next words freezing him.

"I think I figured out what did this to Dean."

"What?" John asked taking a step to him.

Sammy sighed. He began shaking his head and both Dean and John were confused. Before either could tell him to continue he spoke.

"You're not going to like this,"

To Be Continued...

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A/N: Well, this is where it gets fun! For me at least! Dean's going make Sam glad that he wasn't ever in charge of a younger Dean. And a twist is coming up, that really messes with the Winchesters minds, because having a Little!Dean isn't bad enough! Please review!


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: Young Blood**

**Fandom: **Supernatural

**Disclaimer: **The characters used are not owned by me. They are owned by the CW and its creator Eric Kripke.

**Characters: **John, Dean, Sam

**Warnings: **Contains spanking and swearing

**Feedback: **Yes please!!

**Thanks for the reviews and alerts guys! Glad you're all enjoying it!**

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Chapter Four 

Sam had that far off 'oh-shit' look on his face and that was never good. John walked over slowly to his son.

"How could it possibly get worse?" Dean huffed from the table.

John glared at him and Dean straightened up again, reading the warning.

"What'd you figure?"

Sam turned and looked at his Dad. He really didn't want Dean to hear this, but he knew that if he tried to get him away, he'd through a fit... or rather a tantrum. He didn't want to see a repeat of his father spanking Dean. It had been bad enough to have it replayed so easily in front of him. He wondered if the whole discipline thing was about Dean being little or was _he_ in trouble too?

Sam gave John a look that told him he'd talk with him later. Turning back to the table, he went and sat down besides Dean.

"I think that this, uh _creature_ wants to inhabit your body. Using a youthful body, one with a promising future, the creature can gather your life force and strength, leaving you like a shell."

"Ok, so it can get worse!" Dean sighed and threw his hands into the air.

John came and sat down on the other side of Dean.

"So? This _creature_, it's coming after Dean. It wants his body, for its own. Great, just great. Do you remember which one it was?"

Sam looked at his father, sure that the man would know that he was lying to him. Sure, it sucked most of his life, but he really hoped that Dean's thrown back head... currently muttering curses at the ceiling.. would allow him not to notice.

"I don't remember."

John nodded. They'd talk later. What he had already heard was pretty bad; it wasn't going down easy on Dean either. Whatever it was must really not be good.

"That's okay, write down what you can remember about it, and then we'll look for it," John replied casually, nodding at Sam's silent message. Looking down at the sullen face of his young son's face, John sighed knowing this would be a very long week.

This would only take a week right?

"Hey, Dean. Why don't you go ahead and start getting ready for bed?"

Dean flipped his head over to his father. He had an 'are you insane?' face.

"Ok guys," Dean started saying, real slow like since apparently at the lost of his body they had lost their minds. "Let's try this out one more time. _Dean_ is TWENTY SEVEN! _Not seven_! I'm not going to be sent to bed like some little kid!"

Both Sam and John noticed the droopy look and how Dean tried hard not to yawn as he spoke.

"Come on, Dean," Sam tried, bring some of their Dad's attention to him, and stood up "I'm pretty tinkered out too."

Dean turned to him and glared. Obviously, he didn't notice the bone that was being tossed to him.

"Then _you_ go to bed!"

John growled. He reached over and grabbed Dean's chin, turning his face back to him.

"Kid, don't start. This is definitely not a good day for that. Just go and take a bath and get into something to sleep in."

Dean opened his mouth to protest, because this was just absurd. But no matter how much he told them, they still kept looking at him in this seven year old's body.

John grabbed Dean's arm and stood up himself as he tugged Dean off of the chair. Walking Dean over to the bathroom door, he kneeled down in front of him and spoke in a low, dangerous tone.

"Last chance, Ace. You got two choices, one of which you know you won't like. So get in there, bathe, and lose of the attitude while you're at it."

Dean glared back at his father, but the tone used brought him back to that feeling he'd get just before he got his father really mad. Averting his eyes, Dean started feeling funny and decided that he really didn't feel like fighting his father just at the moment.

"Yes'ir," he mumbled, bringing his head down to watch his feet scuff through the motel's poopy brown carpet.

"Good answer," John grumbled. He stood up then, walked into the bathroom and turned on the lights. Then he released Dean's arm and with a warning swat left the bathroom, softly closing the door behind him.

_**fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl**_

Dean glared at the door. He reached back and rubbed at his behind, that one swat had hurt. He hated when his father did that, but it did beat getting the actual spanking. Mumbling about rude fathers and their lack of understanding, he began to undress and turned on the water to spray through the showerhead. The last time that he had _bathed_ was when he was fifteen and had that cast on his leg.

He was way too old to have a bath.

No matter how _little_ he looked.

Dean groaned as his tummy started to hurt a little and his head a little too. He walked over to the door, intent on calling out for his daddy, but then his mind did a 360 and he jumped back from the door.

"Daddy? When'd I start thinking like _that_?" Dean shook his head; that was weird.

Heading back over to the tub, Dean stripped off his clothes and stepped into the water pouring down on him.

_**fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl**_

John sat down besides Sam, who kept looking at the bathroom door expecting to see Dean rush out and make another dash to get outside. Probably try to get out into his car and drive away.

"I don't remember him being this stubborn at that age," John sighed. "You yeah, but not him."

Sam scoffed.

"Maybe because he's _twenty-seven_ and not really seven yet."

John grinned at that. Yeah, it was kind of hard to remember, even though he had lived all those twenty years after, just seeing his son at that age and he could _feel_ him at that age too. He almost had a sinking feeling that a three year old Sammy would soon come running up somewhere behind him.

Wait a minute...did Sam just say _yet?_

to be continued...

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_**A/N: Well, there's a pretty big hint on the twist :D!!! Poor Dean, just keeps sounding worse and worse for him...oh well! Hope you enjoyed! Please Review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: Young Blood**

**Fandom: **Supernatural

**Disclaimer: **The characters used are not owned by me. They are owned by the CW and its creator Eric Kripke.

**Characters: **John, Dean, Sam

Thanks for all the alerts, hits and reviews :D LilDean is fun to write!

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Chapter Five 

"Sam, what do you mean 'yet'?"

Sam sighed; he pushed away the empty coffee mug and folded his arms on the table.

"I think I figured out what we were after Dad."

"It's not a creature like you told Dean, is it?" Sam shook his head no.

"What is it son?"

"I think it's a demon..."

_**fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl**_

Dean liked how the hot water felt on his back and ran down his face through his hair. He hadn't had it this long since he was nine and he'd told his dad that he didn't feel like having it long anymore. 'Cuz only babies and girls had it long.

Dean remembered how upset John had seemed at the idea of cutting his hair. He had passed his hand through it, told him how much it reminded him of Mary's long blond locks; but he'd agreed to it. That weekend, John had taken the boys to a barber; and while Sammy had cried out that he didn't want to have a haircut, Dean man'd up and got a buzz cut.

Running his hands through his wet his hair, Dean smiled. Dad's face had been priceless; he couldn't remember who looked more in pain, him or Sammy.

Come to think of it; that had been when Sammy had vowed to _never_ cut his hair.

"Guess you kept to that you little bitch," Dean smirked as he grabbed the soap and began to scrub himself.

A minute later, Dean looked down at the soap in his hand and than over to the shower wall. Giggling, he stepped out of the water and sat down, bringing the soap up to the wall and began drawing. He didn't want to take that stupid shower anyways.

_**fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl**_

"What? What are you talking about Sammy?"

"That thing that attacked us _was_ a creature. It was just controlled by a demon. So, I think it's that _demon_ that did this to Dean."

John sighed, bringing his head to rest on his hands. Well, this was something. He hadn't thought about anything like _that_. But really, there weren't any creatures that _he_ could think of that could turn a person back into a child.

"So, this demon wants to use Dean's young body and mold it into some Demon knock-off or something?"

"Um, actually, I think that it's a little worse."

John looked up and noticed Sam's fidgety state.

"This is _worse _than a demon?" Sam nodded slowly. "How am I not surprised? What is it?"

"Well, I'm not too sure just yet. I haven't really had that much time."

John nodded again.

"That's good son, nice work."

Sam smiled at the praise. It was rare, and he felt his ears redden a little from the embarrassment. He looked down instead back to the laptop where he had begun doing some research.

John turned to listen in on his son in the bathroom. He noticed that the water was running still, hitting the tiled floor, and not a little body that was supposed to be bathing.

"Agh, better get him. Since he's just sitting there away," John groaned as he stood and walked over to the bathroom.

Sam watched him leave. He tried to listen in on whatever his father had heard, but all he could hear was water.

_**fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl**_

Dean was humming to some tune that he'd recently learned. His dad hadn't been too happy when Caleb had had it blasting out of his room. It was pretty heavy stuff, devil's music according to Pastor Jim.

He didn't hear the door open; he just kept drawing on the wall. He really liked drawing Daddy's car; it was just the coolest car ever! The soap couldn't do it justice.

He didn't hear the shower curtain get pulled back, but he felt the wind shift and he looked up.

"He-ey Daddy," Dean said in a small voice.

John gave Dean an odd look. 'Daddy'? He hadn't been called _that _in some time. Especially by Dean.

"What the hell are you doing, Dean?" John growled.

It was Dean's turn to get an odd look. Daddy didn't curse at him. Not unless he made him really mad. But what was there to be mad about right now? All he was doing was taking a shower. Maybe he didn't like how the Impala was coming out, he sure as heck didn't.

"'M taking a bath, Daddy. Where's Sammy?"

Dad had been with Sammy, trying to get the kid to go to bed. What was he doing here? Sammy couldn't really be left alone.

"On the laptop, trying to find out what the hell's got into you. Now, since you obviously not going to _bathe_ then get up and get dressed. You'll still going to bed. Even if it's only 10 at night."

John reached over and shut the water off. Then he grabbed a towel and waited to see if Dean would need help coming out of the shower.

Dean stood up slowly, leaving the soap on the floor, and turned over to watch his father. They both looked at each other, neither moving.

"Dean?"

"What?" Dean shrugged. He was getting cold and he kinda needed that towel about now.

"What are you waiting for?"

"You?"

John eyed him oddly. Dean was acting funny. Kind of _innocent..._

"Dean? You okay?"

"Sure, I guess," Dean shrugged. He didn't feel any pain or anything, so he wasn't hurt, if that's what he meant. His dad was starting to freak him out though.

"Daddy? I'm cold," Dean said after a second. He stretched his arms out to his father, hoping to get the man moving.

John looked at his son oddly, but moved forward anyways. He wrapped the towel around the small body and lifted him out of the tub.

Dean clung around his neck, resting his wet head on John's shoulder. He was calm and slipping into sleep.

John felt Dean relax in his hold. He rubbed the towel on Dean's body, all the whole thinking this was really odd.

"Daddy? Are _you_ okay?"

"I'm okay, Ace," John said.

"Did...did Pastor Jim call again? Do you gotta leave? You just got back!"

Dean pushed off his father's shoulder and bit down on his lower lip, keeping the quivering tone in control.

"I'm not going anywhere," John said into the saddened eyes.

"Promise? "

"Yeah, kiddo. I just got back," John said softly, not sure what was happening.

"Ok, since you promise."

Dean leaned back onto his dad's shoulder than.

"Daddy, we better get back, 'fore Sammy gets up and junk. He can get grumpy in the morning if he don't sleep."

"Dean, son," John shook his head. He couldn't believe that he was even asking this. Way too many odd things were going on.

"Daddy?" he yawned.

"How old are you?" he whispered into Dean's soft hair.

"Seven and three months, Daddy. Don't you remember? Daddy you sick or something?"

"No, kiddo," John replied, feeling himself tense up as he stroked Dean's fair hair.

This was probably what Sammy had meant by _worst_.

To be continued...

* * *

So? Neat twist huh? Hehe. ;) 


	6. Chapter 6

**Title: Young Blood**

**Fandom: **Supernatural

**Disclaimer: **The characters used are not owned by me. They are owned by the CW and its creator Eric Kripke.

**Characters: **John, Dean, Sam

**Warnings: **Contains spanking (though not this chapter) and swearing

**Thanks for the alerts and reviews guys:D**

* * *

Chapter Six 

Sam rubbed his eyes awake. He was trying to get some sort of research done, but Dean had really tired him out that day.

He was really glad that their dad had gotten there quickly. He didn't even care right now to ask him where he had been all these months. He was just glad that he wasn't the one that had to get little Dean to take a bath.

Sam heard the door of the bathroom open. His father had gone in a good ten minutes ago and Sam had figured that Dean had either gotten Dad really mad or would have to sit through an actual bath.

And his brother really hadn't been such a keen kid to clean up; even though he had insisted that Sammy stayed clean.

John came in holding a sleeping Dean in his arms. Dean was wrapped in his towel and clinging onto their father.

"Dad? He okay?"

"Shhh," John said as he lied Dean down on the second bed, placing him right by the wall. He grabbed a long tee shirt from his bag and maneuvered Dean into it.

Settling Dean into the covers, John pat his hair for a minute wondering what in the world was going on. Once he was sure that Dean was in fact asleep, he tucked in his small frame and went to sit by Sam.

"Dad?"

"Sammy, I think I figured out the worse."

"What? What happened in there?"

"Dean's mind's back to being seven," John blurted out. Watching as Sam's eyes grew wide, John felt his own panic start to grow inside him.

"How? What?"

"I don't know. He was that way when I got him out of the tub. Fell asleep as I was drying him off."

"Dad, this isn't good. This is so _not _good. Very not good."

Sam stood up and began to pace the length of the small room.

"Seven? He can't help _himself_ Dad! He's just a kid!

"I know," John sighed as he passed a hand through his hair.

"Not to mention all the things that attack children. Dad, this'll make it impossible to protect Dean! We can't just leave, alone. Oh God, what are we going to do?"

"Calm down," John said, both to himself and his son. "For now, he's safe. And, at seven he was really good at listening I doubt we'll have any more problems there. During the day, we'll keep an eye on him. We'll protect him and keep everything away from him.

"At seven he was still learning, Sam. He could fight and shot a shotgun, but not much else. He didn't get to have his own weapon for another year. And I never let him sleep with one like he's used to doing now. But, we can protect him. It's going to be okay."

"Then how are we going to get this thing. If we're so busy protecting him, when are we going to get him back?"

John sighed. That had been one of his biggest concerns as the boys had been growing up. He had been so grateful to most of his friends that would house the boys, especially Pastor Jim, Caleb, Bobby and Josh who were all practically like the boys' uncles.

"We're going to have to do both."

To Be Continued...

* * *

So, yeah, this was short, really short. But, I just wanted to build up some worry into the Winchester's minds. (While LittleDean sleeps obliviously, hehe) Next chapter up in a few days, still tweaking it here and there. Please review! 


	7. Chapter 7

**Title: Young Blood**

**Fandom: **Supernatural

**Disclaimer: **The characters used are not owned by me. They are owned by the CW and its creator Eric Kripke.

**Characters: **John, Dean, Sam

**Warnings: **Contains spanking and swearing and Dean seeing something naughty.

_**Ahh, you gotta love laptops and how they let you update chapters as you watch Supernatural reruns: D**_

* * *

Chapter Seven

Dean awoke the next morning feeling like crap. He stretched his limbs and found that he was sleeping on his stomach. Finding that odd, Dean began to push himself out of bed, just to find that he was sleeping besides the wall.

"The fuck?"

Twisting to the other side of the bed, Dean was not too happy to see a figure sleeping besides him. Dean frowned. He didn't remember hooking up last night. Actually, he couldn't seem to remember much of yesterday. He did have this one freaky-ass dream though...

Dean made a grab for the sheets and tugged them down, revealing the frame besides him a bit. He was more than shocked to find a floppy mess of hair lying there.

"Sammy? The hell you doing there?"

Reaching out, Dean shoved at his brother's shoulder and began calling out to him loudly.

"Sammy! Yo, Sam! Get up Dude! What the hell you doing, man! Get the fuck up, bro!"

Sam was always quite a heavy sleeper, one of the reasons that Dean had always taken to placing himself before his brother when it came to bedding. So, the groaned reply was expected, if not annoying.

The mutter from the other end of the room, however, hadn't been.

"Watch your mouth, kid."

Dean shot up in his bed. Mouth gaped open; Dean watched as his father rolled over in the bed and looked over to the bedside digital clock.

"Dad?" Dean squeaked out.

"Ye-ah," John groaned out. It was barely 630 am and he'd just gotten into bed three hours ago.

"What the hell you doing here?" Dean squeak/yelled.

Sam moved in his sleep and reached out towards him, wrapping an arm around Dean's slim waist.

Dean looked down and for the first time noticed that he did in fact have a slim waist. Not to mention his hands hadn't been this small in forever.

Dean's eyes shot back to his father, who was beginning to get up from bed.

"Dean? You okay, son?"

Not knowing how to reply, Dean looked himself over again and then back to his father.

"Shit!"

And with that said, he flopped back down on the bed, willing himself back into sleep.

_**fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl**_

John stood up and stepped over to the boys' bed. He could see Dean's small frame taking in deep breaths and he could hear Dean muttering about bad dreams and to please, please go back to sleep.

"Hey, Dean, you okay?" He repeated as he sat down by Sam's hip and reached over to pull Dean's hands' off of his face.

"Can't hear you, this ain't real. Can't hear a thing. Just go back to sleep. It's all a dream. Just one crazy, fucked up dream."

John sighed.

"Dean, can the language kiddo. Told you last night. Now cut that out and look at me."

"No. Can't. Not _real_."

"This is real, bud. Come on. Look at me, now."

Dean slit his eyes open enough to look over to his father. Then he just as soon shut then again.

"Not real! Sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!"

"Dean, cut it out," John insisted.

Dean turned and buried his face into Sam's chest. He felt his father patting his hair and tried not to relax into the caress.

"God, this is weird," John muttered. Sighing again, he stopped patting Dean - which was really making his son feel sleepy again - and nudged Sam in the back. "Up Sammy. Things just got a hell of a lot weirder."

_**fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl**_

Sam sat in front of his _little_ brother as they waited for their father to return with some breakfast.

"Quit staring at me" Dean said not bothering to lift his head from the table.

"Sorry," Sam said for about the fifth time since their father left. He looked away and over to the kitchenette and to the unmade beds.

John had left them both with clear instructions that they weren't to leave the room. He didn't want anyone or anything getting to his boy. Especially since he had no idea what the heck was happening to him.

He had left Sam in charge, to Dean's dismay.

"This sucks out loud."

"Yeah," Sam said to his cup of coffee.

"That all you can say," Dean mumbled.

"Not much to say, I guess," Sam shrugged.

Dean groaned. For a little geek boy, Sammy really sucked at getting him information.

"Nice, Geek Boy."

"What?" Sam asked, clearly not amused by Dean's antics.

"Just saying, shouldn't you be doing research or something? I mean, come on! Look at me! This shit sucks to the max."

"Well, there's nothing I can do about it! Dad's going to try his contacts and then we'll take it from there."

Dean rolled his eyes. He'd just heard that plan from their father.

"Nice, Einstein. Care for something original?"

Sam growled as he pushed himself up from the table and dumped his now cold coffee in the sink.

"I don't know Dean! This is hard for me too! Not to mention, you could do a little more than just _complain_. Cause you've got that down packed!"

"Learned from the best!"

"What's that supposed to mean!"

"Means all you know how to do is bitch!"

The brothers then began to really argue. They tended to start to get angered at each when they got really tensed.

"I wouldn't have so much to complain about if you weren't such a handful!"

"Handful! Please, boy, look who's talking!"

"You know, this whole _little kid _thing is actually quite appropriate. Least now you look like how you sound!"

"OH!" Dean yelled out, hopping off of his seat. "You know, if it weren't for me, _little brother, _you'd be dead over twenty years ago! So if I don't feel like taking some things seriously and having some _fun_ in life, so sue me!"

"That's not what I meant and you know that!" Sam yelled back, slamming his hand down on the table.

Dean rolled his eyes and turned away from him. He walked over to the second bed and hopped up on it, turning on the TV. Ignoring the channels that looked like they might actually be interesting, Dean went straight to the first porn channel that he could find.

_**fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl**_

Sam was resting his head on his arms, thinking about everything and then also calming himself down as to not kill his brother. He had a sinking feeling that if they started a fight, Dad would place most of the blame on _him_ seeing as how he's now "older".

He heard Dean flipping wildly through the channels and hoped that he found something soon because his head was going to explode.

And then he heard the _moaning_.

Sam's head shot up. He couldn't be hearing right, but then there it was again.

"Dean!" he called out into the other room, not wanting to get up.

"What the hell you want now!"

"What are you watching?"

Sam heard a sigh and a giggle. An actual giggle.

"Dude, if you don't know, I don't think it's up to _me_ to tell ya. Especially _now_."

Sam groaned. This day sucked royal ass.

_**fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl**_

Dean covered his mouth to prevent another giggle. He hated giggling. He never remembered giggling _before_.

He heard Sam shoving off of the seat and walking into the bedroom. He stretched out and pretended not to even notice his brother's entrance.

"Shut that off," Sam said sternly.

Dean scoffed.

"I'm serious. Turn that thing off, Dean."

"No."

"Dean, I'm serious," Sam said in a _serious_ tone.

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Dude, if I didn't listen to you _before_, I ain't listening now."

"Shut the TV off, or change the channel Dean," Sam responded, ignoring Dean's statement.

"Why?" Dean said, turning to him slowly. "Make you a little uneasy, Sammy?"

Dean turned an innocent look to his brother, which was even easier to do with a seven year old angelic face.

A face that was really freaking his brother out.

"Look! Dad left me in charge. So that means you've got to do what I say."

That made Dean mad. John had left Sammy in charge and that was just unfair. First off, _he_ was older and was always in charge. Second, and most importantly really, they were both adults and didn't need to be left in charge or get a warning or whatever! He was still him!

"I don't care! And I don't know why he did that, but it doesn't matter!"

It was now Sam's turn to roll his eyes.

"He did that because he knows you and he knows that the first chance you get you'll cause trouble."

"What the hell am I supposed to _do _that'll cause such a big freaking problem?!"

"Leave. Or try anyway." Sam replied crossing his arms over his chest.

"Fuck you! I'm twenty seven! I can leave if I want to!"

"No, you can't cause you're _seven_ but you just won't act like it!"

"Why the hell should I? Especially _when I'm not_!"

"AHH! Because Dad said so and you're grating on my nerves! Shut the goddamn thing off Dean!"

Now Dean chose to ignore him. He settled back against the headboard and concentrated on the "movie".

He enjoyed the view but was starting to freak out that it was all _mental_. He was missing the best part! He couldn't _feel_ anything!Looking over to Sammy, he wondered what the kid'd do if he started jacking off in front of him. As the idea started to harvest in his mind, he saw Sam shift and move over to the TV.

_**fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl**_

Having had enough, Sam watched Dean watching the porno for a second before heading over to the television set and shutting it off himself.

"Hey! What the fuck, Sam!"

Sam turned back around just as a tinny furious Dean jumped up on the bed and walked over to the edge, readying to fight his brother. In his tight little fist, Sam spotted the remote control to the set.

As Dean pulled his right back to punch him, Sam grabbed it and quickly pulled the control from the left hand. Releasing Dean, he headed over to the fridge and placed the control on top of it.

_**fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl**_

Dean watched his brother walk over and place the remote control out of his reach. _That little bitch!_

Hopping down off the bed, Dean dashed over to his brother and began to fight him with all his strength. He was not over kicking, punching, scratching, biting, etc. He had the height, weight, and strength as a drawback and he hated that Sam had taken advantage of that.

Sam grabbed at his arms and lifted him up, trying to prevent him from getting any good hits in. But he was dealing with a Winchester none the less.

Dean barred his teeth and bit into one of Sam's wrists.

"Ahhgh!" Sam yelled out as he dropped Dean onto the floor.

Dean looked up in delight as Sam rubbed at his now aching wrist. And then he smirked.

Sam noticed his look and didn't look too happy about that either. _Well_ _tough luck_, thought Dean.

_**fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl**_

Sam, however, was not in such a forgiving mood. Just seeing that smirk reappear on his brother's face made his blood rush cold.

Reaching forward, Sam grabbed at Dean's arm and turned him sideways. Then he swatted at the unprotected butt as hard as he could.

"Whoa! Ah! Sam, what the fuck!" Dean yelled yanking his arm free.

"You don't bite me!" Sam gritted back at him furiously.

Dean wasn't interested in responding. He was the older brother and Sam had no right to swat him! And then the reprimand, that just sent the little guy over the proverbial edge.

And so he stroke out and kicked his brother in the nuts.

And Sammy dropped to his knees.

Just as their father opened the door and entered the room.

To Be Continued...

* * *

See? I made this one longer :D The last chapter was really, really short...And this one was just too much fun!!!! Hehe, just another twist for you! Hope you enjoyed! Please Review! 


	8. Chapter 8

**Title: Young Blood**

**Fandom: **Supernatural

**Disclaimer: **The characters used are not owned by me. They are owned by the CW and its creator Eric Kripke.

**Characters: **John, LittleDean, and Sam

**Warnings: **Contains swearing

**A/N: The SPNL Novel _Nevermore_ is out! Go get it!!! (I bought mine, and I must say it's great!!!! Not finished with it yet though...**

**Thanks for all the reviews, favorited, and alerts!! I'm amazed at how well people have taken to this story : D**

* * *

Chapter Eight 

John reached the motel room door and opened it in time to hear a loud groan and someone falling down to the floor. Barely having a chance to drop the foods bags onto a side table, John glanced into the kitchen and noticed Sammy on his knees in front of Dean.

"Sammy? Son, you okay?" John rushed over to his side and kneeled besides him.

Sam nodded that he was fine but refused to move from his crouched positioned.

John, still very confused, looked over to Dean to ask him what was wrong with Sammy. The smirk that resided on the seven year old's face wasn't what he had expected.

John turned his attention on Dean now, sensing that he had walked in just as the heat of a fight had taken place.

"Dean? What happened to your brother?"

Dean looked over to Sam, who was still on his knees but his breathing was more controlled. There was a spark of humor in his eye and then a hint of a dimple could be spotted.

"Dean!"

Dean's face changes as he looks back over to his father. Clearly, John has seen his reaction and doesn't look too happy right now.

"What'd you do to your brother?" and with that tone, there's no denying it.

Dean looked down at his shoes. He knew how his father felt about him hurting his little brother.

Dean's mind did a 180. He hid the smirk.

He wasn't the little brother right now.

"Dean, don't make me ask you again," John gritted out. But Dean wasn't going to let that happen, because _he_ hadn't done anything.

"Sammy hit me, so I kicked him in the groin."

Now, John's heard some pretty fascinating stories revolving these two, but come on!

"Come again?" Because he couldn't have heard right.

"Sammy. He hit me and he was hurting me and so I kicked him," Dean whispered, trying to show that he was innocent in all of this.

But Sam's not having that.

"Bullshit!" he grits out as he sits back on his heels, still clutching his crotch.

"Sam, language," John says automatically over to him, still eyeing the little boy before him.

"Dad, you know he's lying!"

"What! You gonna say you didn't hit me!" Dean added, because two can play the blame game.

"You deserved it you little twerp!"

"Enough!" John yelled; now mad with both of his sons.

John Winchester had never allowed either of his sons to fight each other and seeing it being played out in front of him wasn't making him very happy.

At least they were smart enough to stop bickering and look ashamed.

"Someone better start talking soon..." John said through gritted teeth as he stood up to his full size.

Crossing his arms over his chest, John looked down to his two sons and couldn't help but wonder what the heck had gotten into them.

They looked each other over before they looked back over to him. Both seemed to be completely blank.

John wasn't sure how to handle the situation. Any other time, he would've demanded that Dean explain immediately what had happened. However, seeing as how Dean was the _little_ brother at the moment, it was sort of entitled to Sam to take the responsibility and the blame. If he had left Sam in charge, then he would have to take the consequences as well.

"Samuel, now," John grates out as he stares down at his youngest.

Sam looked unsure. He had no idea what to say. He's not like Dean that can cook up a story at the drop of a hat.

Not Sam. Sam has the puppy eyes down pat. He never needed to lie. Not that he could anyway.

"Things got carried away," Sam tried to explain quickly.

John shook his head. That was not a suitable answer.

"And what's that mean?" John stressed, hoping that the kid would get that he was pretty damn close to losing it.

Sam shrugged.

"Damnit Sam! What the hell happened?"

Sam looked down. He didn't know what to say. He knew that whatever he said, it would come out wrong and that in the end, he had fought with his brother, a _big_ no-no.

Then again, he really hadn't done anything wrong. Dad had left him in charge and that meant that Dean was supposed to listen to him, but he wasn't listening to him. That's the only reason that Sam had to take matters into his own hands, so to speak.

_**fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl**_

Dean looked over to his brother. He could see the wheels in his head turning and turning to try and get an acceptable answer. And knowing his brother like he did, if he gave him enough time then he would be able to come up with an answer. Luckily, he also knew how his father thought. And right now, _he_ was his father's little boy.

And so, Dean got his most pitiful look on and then concentrated for a second before he felt a wet trickle down his cheek. And then another, followed closely by another.

Yep, Dean Winchester still had it.

"He hurt me!" Dean repeated what he'd said earlier, pointing at Sam, as if John didn't know who he was talking about. "He was really mean and then he, he" Well, if he was going to go the whole nine yards, might as well.

"Dean?" John asked, seeing the tears streak down his son's face.

Sam watched his brother too. He was amazed at the act. However, being the big hearted guy that he is, he wondered if maybe he had hurt him. Dean was in a little kid's body after all. Not like, bigDean couldn't have handled that, but maybe littleDean wasn't up to that yet.

Not to mention _Sam_ had never spanked someone before. He was the baby so there's no way that he'd ever get that chance, just didn't work like that.

And Dean was bawling. Surprising himself.

"He _spanked_ me! So I kicked him. Cuz he hurt me!"

John looked over to Sam. Sam was watching his brother and he had a hurt expression on his face.

"Sam? Did you spank your brother?" John asked, completely not believing that the words themselves could find a way out of his mouth.

Sam looked back over to him. He wasn't really sure how to answer that. He had hit Dean _once_. That was not a spanking. Then again, his dad wasn't really in favor of them hitting each other and this probably counted as that no matter what.

"I only hit him once! And for good reason!" Sam clarified quickly.

Dean looked over to his brother. _Crap_. If Sammy said what he'd been doing, then Dean would be in trouble. This was probably right up the line with drinking and a new bedtime. And he had really hoped that all of last night had been a dream, but from what he'd been told, it wasn't going good for him as is.

"He shouldn't hit me period! He was just taking vantage of the citation!"

Dean gripped his little fist and huffed as he stomped.

John and Sam looked over at him. Then back to each other.

"Advantage of the situation?" John tried to clarify.

Dean looked up to him and nodded. Not seeming to notice that he had said anything wrong.

"Because you're little now?"

Dean rolled his eyes. He nodded slowly, hoping that his father would get the point.

"Dean? You feeling okay, bud?" John asked kneeling down in front of him.

Dean gave him an odd look.

"Yeah, Daddy, I feel fine. Sammy's being the meanie!" Dean yelled out, pointing once again to his brother.

'Daddy', 'meanie'?

"Daddy! Aintcha gonna do something?"

_**fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl**_

John got Dean settled down enough with his breakfast to get the entire story. All he got out of Dean however was, "nah uh, I didn't watch no corn! I don't even like corn!"

Sam had clarified that he had hit Dean, once, after the other had refused to turn off the porno that he was watching. The odd thing was, Dean remembered Sam and being hit, but he couldn't remember watching no "corn".

Granted that would be a pretty favorable story.

Dean sighed his way through his pancakes and sipped at his orange juice. He couldn't see what the big deal was that had Sammy and Daddy glancing at him every other second. And it was starting to piss him off.

Especially Sammy. Kid should learn to keep his monster sized hands to himself. And off of Dean.

To Be Continued...

* * *

I'm afraid I couldn't think of which one of them deserved the spanking, and I also figured poor John was already confused as to who was his _little_ boy at the moment. So, I saved us both from an awkward scene and skipped it. : D Sorry! 

Please review, so that I can put down _Nevermore_ and continue to write, lol. :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Title: Young Blood**

**Fandom: **Supernatural

**Disclaimer: **The characters used are not owned by me. They are owned by the CW and its creator Eric Kripke.

**Characters: **John, Little Dean, and Sam

**Warnings: **Contains spanking (though not this chapter) and swearing

**Feedback: **Yes please!!

Sorry for the long wait, RL sucks. A lot of sad things happening lately, so this one is all pretty happy: D

* * *

Chapter Nine 

John and Sam were both watching Dean's every move. The 'youngest' Winchester was endlessly fidgety and kept pushing his food around on his plate, very unlike their Dean.

John could slightly recall that when his oldest had been seven, and up until he hit twelve, the boy hadn't been huge on his appetite. After hitting puberty, however, Dean had made a huge turnaround and then it was hard to get the kid to stray from food... or girls.

Sam was struck stupid, because he could never remember Dean being this way. _His_ Dean was a food hog and would be on _Sammy's_ case about eating too little or eating 'rabbit's food.

"Stop staring at me! It's rude!" Dean told his family, not bothering to look up from his plate.

Both older men snapped out of their trances. They had been focused too heavily on Dean, and both knew that at any age, Dean hated being the center of attention.

Unless it came from a woman.

"Sorry," Sam mumbled, looking down to his own plate and resuming eating.

Dean scoffed. He wasn't too keen on Sammy since he was swatted. Especially since Daddy hadn't even yelled at him for it.

"Quit playing with your food, and eat it," John said instead. He ddn't feel the need to apologize to a seven year old.

Dean glanced up long enough to glare at his father. Then he resumed pushing his pancake pieces through the puddle of syrup.

"Dean," warned John in his fatherly tone which a seven year old would definitely not challenge.

Dean stabbed at his food and grumpily brought it to his mouth.

The rest of breakfast was eaten in silence, except for Dean occasional 'humph' which went ignored by the other two parties.

After breakfast, Dean was made to sit on the bed; doing nothing in what Sammy said was called a timeout. Normally, John would punish his kids with either a spanking or chores, but Sam had pointed out that this Dean really couldn't go outside and handle chores.

He couldn't go outside period, because he had no _clothes_.

Sam glanced over to the brooding little boy, then back at his father.

"Dad, Dean needs clothes."

John looked back to his little boy. Dean was taking his anger out on a pillow, beating the feathers out of it like there was no tomorrow. He wasn't sure if he should put a stop to it, so he just let the boy take his anger out any way he could.

"Yeah, but the problem with that is, _which_ Dean?"

John and Sam had been talking and had figured out that apparently the transformation of Big!Dean into Little!Dean was also happening mentally and psychologically. Especially if he was stressed out.

What Sammy had come to fear was that the longer his brother stayed little, the longer the intervals between twenty-seven year old Dean and seven-year-old Dean would occur.

In order words, Dean would be seven for longer.

Sam shrugged. He could see what his father meant though; would they be buying the clothes for a seven year old Dean, or his twenty-seven year old counterpart?

Neither were easy to shop for, though seven year old Dean would wear what he was told to wear.

"Well, unless we want him walking around, having to hang onto his boxers, I think that we're going to have to get him some Dad."

John sighed.

"Yeah, you're right."

Looking back to Dean, who was now silently lied out on his stomach and occasionally kicking the mattress, John tried to think up a plan.

"How about, after his little session there you take him out shopping. I'll call a few people, see what they think. Okay?"

Sam seemed skeptical.

"What is it, Sammy?"

"Well, are you okay with what happened before breakfast?"

"What? You and your brother fighting or you spanking him?" John asked, in a tone that stated that he wasn't too happy with either outcome.

"I _didn't_ spank him, Dad. It was one swat! And just because he doesn't remember watching the porno, doesn't mean he wasn't you know."

"I know, Sam. It seems rather convenient, to tell you the truth. Though, I would rather that a seven year old's memory not include that particular moment, thanks," John added gruffly thinking about who he'd have had to hurt when and if this had really happened when either of the boys were young.

"Well, yeah, I guess. Are you mad at me then? For hitting him?" asked Sam cautiously. He wanted to make sure where he stood with his father at the moment.

John scoffed.

"No, I really can't blame you, son. He wasn't an easy child, just a good listener. Doesn't mean he's always done as he was told, sorry he gave you that impression."

Sam looked from his father to his brother. Surely, Dean hadn't really acted like this when he had been little. Sam had started having 'an attitude problem' when he was around thirteen, and as far as he could remember everything had been clear sailing before that.

It was one of the things about his big brother that really bugged the hell out of him.

"Besides, I left you in charge, whether he liked it or not." Glancing back to his boy, he could tell that the fight was near gone from the little body.

"I'll make sure that he knows to listen to you while you're out."

Sam nodded. The last thing that he needed was to go out with Dean and then have the kid start freaking out on him.

And knowing how Dean's attention span was at twenty-seven (which happened to be no better than a five year olds) Sam could only barely imagine what it would be like trying to gather a seven year old's full attention.

Damn near impossible.

_**fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl**_

"Daddy?" Can I leave now, _please_?"

John looked away from his laptop and over to Dean, who had just recently woken up from his nap, which he had had during his time-out.

Dean's hair was all over the place, ripe from sleep. His little fists were rubbing out the sleep from his eyes and his bottom lip stuck out in a pout. All in all, Dean was a poster child of cuteness.

"Come here, kiddo," John said, pushing his seat away from the table and turning towards his son.

Dean leaped off the bed and climbed onto his Daddy's lap. He rested his head against John's chest and began to play with the buttons on the flannel over shirt.

Wrapping an arm around the slender form, John watched Dean's relaxed form.

"Daddy, am I still in trouble?" muttered the seven year old.

John smirked down at the top of the blond curls. Dean had a one tracked mind, no matter what age. Easily distracted at that, but one tracked all the same.

And right now, his focus remained on whether or not he was in for a spanking, thought evident by the unnecessary squirming.

"Well, that depends, doesn't it? You going to start fighting with your brother anytime soon?"

Dean's shoulders slumped. His fingers stilled on the buttons. He sighed deeply.

"No, Daddy. No more fighting."

"And are you going to do what you're told? No matter who tells it to you?"

Dean nodded, though clearly not happy. Dean had never really been keen on listening to what others told him to do. Unless that someone was John, then he was all ears and "yessir".

"Especially if I put that someone in charge."

"I guess so," muttered Dean, beginning to play again with the buttons.

"Dean," John said in a warning tone.

"Yes sir, I'll listen. 'Specially if you said so."

Close enough.

"Good," nodded John. He leaned down and kissed the curls. "Then, you're not in trouble no more."

Dean twisted around and looked up at him. He had a bright smile, one that John hadn't seen since the boys' youth.

"Really? No spanking?"

John grinned.

"Not unless you think you need one?" he mockingly asked.

Dean was quick to shake his head.

"Uh, uh. I'm good. I'll _be_ good. No trouble from me," replied Dean, emphasizing the "me" by pointing to his chest.

"That's what I like to hear," John told him.

Standing up, John kept Dean in his arms as he moved over to the window where he peered outside.

He had made Sammy clean out all the garbage from the Impala, knowing how sloppy the two could get when they were alone. He hadn't expected it to take as long as it was taking; nearly twenty minutes as of yet.

"That Sammy?" asked Dean, peering out as well; trying to see what had his Daddy's attention.

"Yep," John replied for about the tenth time that morning.

"He's really big, huh?"

"He sure is," smirked John, knowing how it had irritated Dean at twenty-seven.

Seven year old Dean wasn't too happy either.

"Why aren't _I_ big, too?" pouted Dean.

John looked away from the window at down at the little boy in his arms. Crap, they hadn't told Little Dean anything that had happened yet.

Not that they knew really what the hell it was that had happened yet either.

He was used to keeping his sons in the dark about certain things, but he really couldn't ignore this little deed could he?

Not when Sammy was big still and Dean was little.

"Well, bud, can't say I'm really sure about that yet," answered John truthfully. "Think you can give Daddy a little more time?"

"To make Sammy small again?"

Not exactly.

"Something like that."

Moving them back to the table, John set Dean aside with a pen and some loose-leaf paper. He remembered how artistic Dean had been when he was little.

Something that Mary and he had always done together.

"Draw for Sammy?" asked Dean looking at the blank paper.

Dean had always needed a reason to do certain things. John had made Sammy his reason.

He wondered if that was a bad thing, maneuvering Dean's life around his baby brother.

He wondered more if he should try to change that. If he even could.

"Draw whatever you like," John said with a smile as he ruffled Dean's hair.

Dean picked up the pen and bit his bottom lip.

"Sammy likes pirates and ships and water, but he doesn't like clowns."

Dean looked up to his Daddy with a wicked smirk. One John knew too well.

"Think I should draw _big_ Sammy a clown, Daddy?"

To Be Continued...

* * *

I needed a LittleDean/John moment. (sniffs) They're so cute together! But, anyway, unless it wasn't clear - Dean's still in his 7yr old mind and missing his little Sammy. He's not freaking out because he has his Daddy their and he's okay with things as long as the man's around (he'll freak out soon, don't worry!) 

And, (yah me!) I've got some good plot twist coming up! So, please read and review. Every review is just that step closer to bringing BigDean back, at least for a moment.


	10. Chapter 10

**Title: Young Blood **

**Fandom: **Supernatural

**Disclaimer: **The characters used are not owned by me. They are owned by the CW and its creator Eric Kripke.

**Characters: **John, LilDean, Sam

**Warnings: **Contains spanking (though not this chapter) and swearing

Thanks for all the reviews and alerts! You guys really rock! I would respond to each of you, but I think you'd all just perfer me to write :D

* * *

Chapter Ten 

Sam entered the motel room to see both of the "older" Winchesters busily at work.

"Done?" John asked him without looking away from his work.

"Yes sir," replied Sam quickly as he dropped something that he had collected from the car on the first bed.

"Wanna draw wit me?" Dean asked, also not looking up.

Sam looked at the small form of his brother. _Draw?_ Dean. Dean drawing.

Well, now he had seen everything.

"Um, sure. I guess so."

Sam sat down in the remaining seat, keeping Dean between himself and their father.

"I drawed you something."

"You _drew_ him something," corrected John, still not bothering to look up from his research.

"Uh huh," Dean said, dismissing the correction.

"Sure, dude. Whatcha got for me?"

Dean handed over a few sheets of paper. Sam took them and looked them over.

"Wow, Dean. You're really good!"

Sam marveled over the pirate ships and pirates. The skull-and-cross-bones flags. A huge shark leaping into the air, taking a bit out of the pirate ship. And the last one was clearly Dean trying to make himself as a pirate.

And they were all pretty damn good. Better than some of Sam's so called art work, even now.

"Thanks, little you really liked pirates. Ya still like 'em?" Dean asked looking directly at him now.

Sam stared back. He hadn't really thought like that in a while. What he liked versus what he didn't like. Lately he just thought about what needed to be done and the ways to get it done.

He had even forgotten his childhood craze over pirates and then dragons and then astronauts. And through all those fazes, Dean had always encouraged his imagination.

"You betcha!" replied Sam as he reached over to ruffle Dean's hair.

It was funny how often he and John had taken to doing so, even in just the one day that Dean had been in this form. Funnier still that Dean allowed it, even though he grew up to hate people touching his 'marvelous' hair.

Sam could see marvelous hair in the blond wavy curls, but not in the short spiky one that he big brother doted on.

Dean grabbed at the picture he was drawing. He held it close to his chest and gave him a hard look.

"How ya feel bout clowns?"

"Not too fondly," Sam grimaced.

Dean shrugged. He took the drawing from his chest and placed it upside down besides Daddy's work.

"Guess some things never change, huh?" he muttered to himself as he handed over some paper to Sam and then began to draw again.

Sam smirked over to him, loving the BigDean overprotective brother quality that he saw even in that small gesture. He looked over to his father and saw the man glance briefly at the little boy between them with the same fondness that he felt at the moment. They shared a smile and then each returned to what they were doing.

And Sam learned where he got his art talent from.

**_fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl _**

An hour later, Dean was squirming in his seat, trying his damnest to get out of the seatbelt. Well, get out of it without Sam noticing.

Sam was taking him shopping, but Dean saw no _need_ to do so. He was just fine in the tee and boxers. Though, it was pretty hard keeping the damn things around his waist.

"Damn seatbelt," muttered Dean as he tugged the strap away from his chest and over his head.

Sam glanced at the rearview mirror. He could see Dean at it again. He had heard the cuss word and wasn't too pleased at that either.

Dean had been told to behave himself, or else. John was heading off for more research and to call in a few friends he thought might know something. Meanwhile, Sam and Dean were to get Dean some decent clothing.

But, in the last half hour that they had been in the vehicle, Dean had been anything but cooperative.

"Dean," gritted Sam.

He watched Dean still and place the strap back across his chest.

"Uhuh?"

"Leave. It. _Alone_."

Dean bit his lower lip. Sam sounded a hell of a lot like Daddy just then.

"I wanna sit up front."

"I told you, you're too little."

"_Daddy_ lets me!" Dean yelled at him, clearly not seeing how his brother could go against something that their own father would do and deemed okay.

"It's not safe!"

"Daddy would never put me in danger and he lets me!"

Sam growled. They'd been having this argument since they watched their father peel away in his truck and then Dean had dashed over to the passenger seat.

Only to have Sam fight him into the backseat and the seatbelt.

"Well, I said no!"

"But Daddy-

"NO! You stay put where you are, Dean. It's not safe for little kids to be in the front seat. It's the law!"

Dean scoffed _and_ growled at that. He crossed his arms across his chest and glared out the window.

Sam glared out to the road before them and the few cars that were on it.

"Asshole."

Sam's eyes widen.

"What'd you say?"

"You heard me!"

And he had, because Dean wasn't whispering or bothering to sound repentive.

Sam pulled the car over. He turned in his seat, kept in place by his own seatbelt and glared at his brother.

"You better watch your mouth, kiddo!"

"Don't you _kiddo_ me, asshole. You're not my Sammy!"

And it was Sam's turn to growl.

"Stop calling me by that word, and I am your brother Sam. Deal."

"ASS. HOLE!"

"If you don't stop, I'm going to tell Dad that you're cussing!"

"Go, the _fuck_, ahead asshole!"

Sam reached over for his seatbelt and as it clinked free, he saw little Dean tense up. Good. He should be scared.

Reaching over the backseat, Sam grabbed at Dean's chin and turned him to face him.

"Clean it up. Now. I'm not going to play with you. Dad told you to do as I said!"

"Nooooooo," Dean replied in defiance. He tried to turn his head away form Sam's grip, but it didn't work. "Dad said to not cause a ruckus at the store and to keep by you."

"And to do as I said!"

"Yeah, _at the store_."

Dean had that shit eating grin on his face, just with a younger innocent touch to it. Damn. His father had said at the store.

But, Sam wasn't about to give in. Not to a seven year old. Even if it was Dean.

"Well then, I'll just have to call him and make sure that he makes that part clear for you then."

Releasing Dean's chin sharply, Sam grabbed at the cell besides him on the seat.

Though Sam didn't want to call his father to tattle, he didn't want to have to deal with Dean all the way to and back from the store either. Or on the parking lot, in case Dean didn't consider that the store either.

He also knew that when they were staying with someone, if their father got a call, then he'd spank them when he returned. Even if they had already been spanked or otherwise punished by someone else.

Which is why Dean yelled out -

"Wait!"

"What?"

"Don't. Just, don't call Daddy, okay?"

"Yeah? Why?"

"Cuz."

"No 'cuz'. You're being a little imp and I'm not going to take it!"

"SAMMY NO! Daddy'll spank me! Please, don't."

Sam gave him a thoughtful look.

"You going to behave? Stop cussing?"

Dean nodded.

"I can't hear you," Sam said sternly, borrowing a page from his father.

"Yes sir. I'll behave. I'll even stop calling ya an asshole."

"Stop _cussing_. All together or no deal."

"I'll stop! I'll stop!" Dean was quick to say, seeing as how Sam's focus had returned to his cell.

Sam gave him a stern look, but then nodded. Looking back at his cell, he closed up his email.

To Be Continued...

* * *

Poor Sammy is stuck shopping with LittleDean (evil smirk) another plot twist is coming up next chapter I believe, and then my FAVORITE twist (so far) is in a few more chapter. I'm still trying to think of a way to _fix_ the twist before I write it, but it's so good that I HAVE TO add it. Enough incentive to keep reading? Please review!!! 


	11. Chapter 11

**Title: Young Blood **

**Fandom: **Supernatural

**Disclaimer: **The characters used are not owned by me. They are owned by the CW and its creator Eric Kripke.

**Characters: **John, LilDean, Sam

**Warnings: **Contains spanking and swearing

Thanks for all the reviews and alerts! School has started for me, and it was HELL getting everything together these last two weeks, registration, etc. That, and I had no laptop :(. I'm going to go buy a laptop on WED!! So, I should be back real soon!

Prepare for Dean brattyness...

* * *

Chapter Eleven

The rest of the ride hadn't been that bad. Neither Winchester had spoken.

Arriving at the mall, and after finally finding a parking spot, Sam led Dean into the building.

Right by an arcade.

Dean's eyes widened at all the games. He had played a few of them, he could tell, though the names had changed. However, there were a whole bunches of them that he had never seen before.

"Wow, cooooll!" grinned Dean as he began to head over to the arcade.

"Hold it, bud!" A large hand fell onto his shoulder. "Can't go in there. Sorry, we've got some shopping to do."

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Sam-my," Dean drawled out his brother's name in a whine.

"Don't start. Remember, you promised to behave yourself."

Dean rolled his eyes. Again.

"Just to look around!"

Sam shook his head no.

"Come _on_. We can shop all day!"

"Well, I for one hope we won't need to. Besides, I can see a few games in there that you wouldn't even be _allowed_ near."

"Like what!" Dean asked flipping over to look once again over to the arcade.

It called to him.

"Well, I'd love to tell you, but in reality," Sam started as he leaned down and grabbed Dean's hand. The kid didn't even notice, seemingly tranced by the games. "It's not fitting for you to find out."

When Sam began to walk them in the opposite direction, Dean got out of his trance.

"Hey! Let go of my hand! I'm not a little kid! Sammy!"

"No, and yes you are. Now stop tugging at me!"

Dean tried a few more tugs but then gave up, seeing as how Sam wasn't even paying attention to him. He flipped back around, walking sideways so that he could still look at the arcade and memorize the location.

Entering a store, Dean grimaced at all the displays. It was all so girlie and colorful. And everything smelled of _flowers_.

"Sammy? This is the _girl's _section," whined Dean.

Sam looked around and then nodded.

"Yeah, but we have to walk through here to get to the boy's section. Now, come on."

Dean wasn't so sure that he wanted to get something from a section where they'd have to go through a girls' section first, but Sam wasn't giving him any other option.

"I'm not wearing anything stupid!"

Sam rolled his eyes.

"No shit! That's why you're here, so you can pick it out and try it on."

Dean stopped.

"I _don't_ try on clothes! That's for girls!"

Sam tugged Dean until he kept walking.

"I'm not wasting my time to come back and return things because they don't fit. Dad's whole method was that you'd either grow into things or I could have them. Well that's not gonna quite cut it right now, so your trying them on."

Entering the boy's section, Dean looked over some shirts at first glance. He frowned.

"No."

"What?"

"There stupid!"

Sam looked around. All he saw were a lot of shirts and jeans and sneakers that were little kid sized, nothing that looked bad to him.

"What's the problem?"

Dean looked up to him and rolled his eyes. Slowly, he walked forward a little, hand still firm in Sam's, until he stood in front of a blue sweatshirt with a cartoon on it.

"I'm _not_ wearing that!" Dean yelled pointing to the cartoon.

Sam looked at the shirt. Apparently, littleDean and BigDean had similar tastes.

"So, you don't like SpongeBob?" Sam said with a smirk.

Dean looked at him. The "Duh" expression was clear on his face.

"Everyone loves spongebob!" another little voice yelled out from behind them.

The brothers turned to see who had spoken.

A little boy, a little taller than Dean stood behind them. He was probably ten or eleven years old, and true to what he had said, was wearing a bright yellow shirt cleverly sporting the Yellow Squaredpanted Icon. He also had on a pair of black short that had Bob and a Pink starfish.

Dean scoffed.

"Well _I _don't. So there."

The other boy crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well, then you don't count, cause you're stupid! SpongeBob is the best!"

"You're stupid! It's a sponge for crying out loud! And pink is for girls!"

The boy looked madder.

Sam placed his hands on his brother's shoulders, trying to calm him and turn him away from the argument. It hadn't helped when he was younger, but maybe since he was actually bigger than Dean this time, he might be able to avert a fight.

Not that the Big!Dean wouldn't be having the same argument.

"I know that!"

Dean smirked. He pointed at the pink starfish.

"Then why you wearing it, you fairy!"

"Dean!"

"It's Patrick! Everyone knows that!" the kid yelled, stomping his feet.

Dean scoffed.

"Patricia, more like."

The kid took a step forward and Dean smiled. The boy had always loved a confrontation. Especially with the bigger kids.

Made it just that much sweeter when he beat them down.

"Hey!" Sam called out to the kid; bring the boy's attention to him now.

Apparently, Sam's 6'4 frame had gone unnoticed. That was a first.

The boy stilled.

"I don't think that you want to fight. Just because you like something and some one else don't doesn't make it right to start something with them."

"I can take him, Sammy! Don't worry," Dean said in a calm tone. Giving the other boy the look of death, Sam didn't doubt it. Never had.

"I didn't bring you here to fight, Dean."

"Dennis! Dennis!"

A plump woman appeared, pushing a stroller.

"Oh, Denny, there you are!" she came up besides the boy, running a hand through his hair.

"Didn't you hear me calling you? I've been calling out to you for a minute now. You can't run off like that, baby."

Dennis rolled his eyes. His mother looked over to the brothers and smiled.

"Oh, lovely, you've made a friend."

Sam was about to make a friendly comment, sending the family along, but Dean, well...

"Friend?" Dean scoffed. "Lady, you're son is as mean as they come! He was cussing me out just because I said that I liked real heroes like Spiderman and Superman and Batman to Spongebob. Like it was a crime!"

Sam stood slightly opened mouthed watching his brother.

Not only had the young Winchester gone and ratted out the boy, but he had made it worst for the other kid and made himself look completely innocent. And all in a sweet southern drawl.

The lady, slightly stunned as well, turned to her shocked son.

"Denny?"

"Mom, I never cussed at him!"

"He said I had to be stupid and crazy not to like spongebob."

If possible, Dean sounded offended and _hurt_ by the incident.

"Dennis, now that wasn't very nice!"

"But mom, I didn't!"

"Apologize!"

"Mom!"

"Dennis, there was no need for that! Now, apologize to this boy and let's get going! Maggie needs a change of clothes and we still need to get Grandpa's present."

"But Mom, it was him…he…I didn't…he called me a fairy!"

The lady looked unsure between her son and Dean.

Dean tugged at Sam's hand slightly and smirked to his brother.

Sam had remained silent, never seeing this side of his brother before. Sure, he had heard that his brother could be a real bastard, mainly all through high school, but he had never actually _seen_ it. The Dean that he knew was so caring and comforting.

Sam snapped out of it, turning to address the lady, he placed a hand on Dean's chest, pressing the boy closer to him.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience ma'am. I don't know what it is with boys and altercations. I'm sorry that we disrupted your shopping. We'll get going; we can find some clothes elsewhere."

Looking down at his brother, who stared up at him with innocent adoring eyes, he smiled.

"Why don't you say your goodbyes and we keep on shopping?"

"But, I didn't get to look around! And it's _my_ birthday." Dean looked thoroughly touched; Sam could even swear that he saw a few twinkling tear marks caught in his brother's eyes.

Sam gave his brother an odd look, not certain what his brother was playing at. Until, the lady spoke.

"Dennis Collin Rolding, you apologize to the boy this second! Picking on a boy just because he's younger than you and doesn't like the same things! And on his birthday! You should be ashamed!"

Dennis looked shocked. Clearly, he didn't know what to make of that.

He turned to the brothers, first to Sam and then to Dean.

"I'm sorry?"

Dean shrugged slightly, taking a tender step closer back towards Sammy.

Dennis' mother scoffed.

"It's okay. You didn't know. And maybe SpongeBob's not so bad."

The lady took a step towards Dean and his brother stood firm, looking at her curiously.

"There's no need for that, sonny!"

She wiped something away from Dean's face and it was then that Sam noticed his brother had pulled in the waterworks.

Dean nodded.

"Now, I'm sure that you can still have a great day and find something that you really like, huh?"

Dean nodded again.

"No need to say you like something just because someone else tells you to like it. My son may like Sponge Bob, but I liked Superman when I was a little girl too. There's nothing wrong with that!"

Dean nodded more enthusiastically.

"He's my _favorite_."

The lady nodded. Standing back up she looked at Sam and smiled.

"I'm sure whatever day this young man has planned for you isn't spoiled yet?"

"No, ma'am," Sam replied in the same Southern drawl that Dean had used.

"No, I've got the best brother in all the world!" bragged Dean.

The lady smiled at them. Returning to her children's side she nodded.

"Well, happy birthday then! And how old are you today?"

Dean beamed.

"Nine!"

"Well, my Dennis is nearly eleven. I'm sorry for the misunderstandings. You have a great day."

"Okay! Bye!" Dean waved, as the lady walked away pushing the stroller, a firm grip on her son's arm.

"Thank you, ma'am."

As they rounded the corner, Dean turned his innocent face to his brother. Sam kneeled down in front of him.

"You're a brat you know that?"

"Yep!"

"That was very mean, Dean! You made that boy get in trouble!"

Dean shrugged.

"He's just lucky his mommy came along to save his sorry fairy behind." Dean said, crossing his arms.

Sam did a quick look around to make sure that no one was looking at them. Reaching forward, he smacked Dean's butt once and hard; propelling the little boy slightly forward.

"Oww!" muttered Dean, as he placed his hands on Sam's chest on instinct for balance.

"I have half a mind to find that lady for you to confess."

"You can't!"

Sam looked at the little boy in front of him, so sure of himself.

"Oh, can't I?"

"No. You can't. You'll look dumb! You were here the whole time and you didn't say nothing!"

Sam opened his mouth, but little Dean was right. Damn.

"Fine! But it doesn't make it any better that you did that!"

Dean turned his head to the side. He was the perfect cross between confused toddler and puzzled puppy. Damn, but his brother was adorable.

"I didn't mean anything by it. And he did apologize!"

"But you didn't."

"But, it's my birthday!" Dean said with a wide grin.

"No. it's not."

Dean shrugged, smug look on his innocent face.

"Too late to say that now too."

Sam growled. Taking to his feet, he resolved that it would be a lot faster and safer to just do the shopping himself.

He grabbed Dean below the arms and hoisted him up to his chest. Dean struggled and whined slightly, but he wrapped his arms tightly around Sam's neck all the same.

"You're really tall!"

Sam smirked at him.

"Yep. I am."

Dean rested his head on his brother's shoulder, prepared to veto any sucky suggestion that was made.

"I'm not wearing the Patricia Star either," he muttered into Sam's neck.

Smiling, Sam brought a hand up through the boy's hair.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he reassured him, pressing a kiss into the soft curls.

To Be Continued...

* * *

Again, you're all so very great to keep up with me:D 

Now, don't forget to review, AND go but the Season Two Supernatural DVD tomorrow, okay:D

A/N: As you can tell, I'm not a big fan of Sponge Bob. However, I don't own him, so no sueing! I started college, so I'm broke and it would be a total waste of time to do otherwise!

Patrick's pretty cool though. Considering.

OH, and Dennis is just a whiny little 'girl' that would leave my best friend alone so he gets the unpleasant cameo! Haha, take that! (though, that's not he's REAL full name, so still don't sue me :D)


	12. Chapter 12

**Title: Young Blood**

**Fandom: **Supernatural

**Disclaimer: **The characters used are not owned by me. They are owned by the CW and its creator Eric Kripke.

**Characters: **John, LilDean, Sam

**Warnings: **Contains spanking and swearing

**Feedback: **Yes please!!

Thanks for all the reviews and alerts!

Prepare for MORE Dean brattyness... Oh, you know you enjoyed it!

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Chapter Twelve 

They had some jeans and a tee-shirt with a child sized leather jacket. Sam had been amazed to find it.

They were trying on shoes at the moment. Dean wasn't so pleased.

"Why do they _all_ have all those cartoons on them?

Sam smiled as he tugged on a plain black sneaker onto his brother's swinging foot.

"Most kids like them, that's why."

Dean scoffed. He looked over to another little boy that was eyeing the Spiderman and the Sponge Bob shoes, trying to decide on which one.

"What's with that Yellow Sponge thing?"

"SpongeBob?"

Dean shrugged.

"Well, he's a sponge, in pants, uh _square _pants, and lives in a pineapple with a snail."

Dean gave him a look that clearly told the older Winchester that he thought the world had gone crazy.

"That really _is_ stupid!"

"How's that?"

"Cuz it's a yellow sponge! And it has a gay friend!"

"No! The sneaker. How's it fit? And Patrick's not gay; he's actually the only one that you can stand."

Dean wiggled his foot around.

"Feels a little tight."

Sam nodded, slipped off the sneaker and then grabbed a size bigger.

"So, I like that gay one? Great!"

"He's not gay! He's a starfish. Now, how's this one?"

"Fine."

After making Dean walk a bit it the new sneakers, Sam paid for the shoes and they headed out of the store.

**_fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl _**

John had been on the phone, trying to find a contact that could help him turn his boy back to, well a man.

So far, he had talked with four of his contacts and he had found no help.

And Bobby had laughed his head off, but he had provided him with an idea. Now, John was on his way to find the other adult-children in the orphanage that they had been placed in.

Dressed in a suit and with his fake badge, it was simple for him to enter the loosely guarded building.

He found two of the "little boys" right away, seeing as they were too little to be playing chess so intently.

The lady that was guiding him, Ms. Holmes, crouched down besides the boys.

"Hey guys, this is Mr. Peter Roland. He wants to talk with you boys for a second. That okay?"

The boys glanced over to John and he gave them a warm smile. Luckily, like his own two sons, John was quite a charmer and could appear to be as innocent as an accountant.

They glanced at each other and then one of them shrugged.

"No problem, Ms. Holmes."

"We can pick up the game when we return."

They pushed away from the table and Ms. Holmes lead the trio over to another room.

"Do I need to be present?"

John looked over at her as he set his briefcase on the small table besides the couch. Ms. Holmes was quite young, might just be twenty. John gave her a charming smile.

"There's no real need, thank you. I'll let you return to the other children and lead these two back when we're done here."

Ms. Holmes smiled back, glanced over to the two boys sitting on the couch and then headed out the door.

"If you need anything, I'll be in the playroom."

John turned around to face the two boys. One boy was around ten, while the other was closer to Dean's age of seven, maybe eight. Both boys had black hair, but the older boy was slightly tanner and the little boy was heavier. These two were obviously not related, but John could sense some camaraderie between them.

Walking over to them, John pulled a seat from the table on the corner and brought it besides the couch. He sat in front of them, oddly sensing that he was in front of his own kids and telling them something important.

"Sir?" the older boy said, straining the word. "What are you here for?"

John reached over for his briefcase and pulled out two files. One was marked Marvin Wales and the other was Patrick Fisher. He handed the files over to the older boy and sat back on his chair.

The younger boy looked over the older boy's shoulder and they quickly leafed through the files. Glancing at each other, John noted the dual look of worry.

"I don't understand," the older boy said, closing the second file.

John smirked. The younger boy was twirling his fingers as the older boy tried to control his rapid breathing. They were lying, like he knew they would.

Pointing at the files, John looked at both boys in the eye.

"Which one are you?"

**_fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl _**

Dean groaned as he spotted what Sam had placed in the shopping cart.

"What now, Dean?" sighed Sam.

"Dude," the little boy whined.

Sam turned around and looked down at him.

"Dean. You can't walk around with your _old_ boxers. They don't fit you anymore. And you can't just wear those jeans without some underwear, I'm sorry."

Dean rolled his eyes.

"You're not. And I don't need them. Daddy's gonna make me big again and you're just wasting money. What you should let me do is go play in the arcade!"

Sam groaned, turning back to the aisle.

"Sammy! Please! Don't want em!"

Sam ignored his brother and continued to walk. He had already gotten Dean a second pair of clothing and sleepwear. In total, he figured that they had enough clothes so that they could dress little Dean for a week before needed to do any laundry.

That was, if Dean was still little by then.

Dean dashed by him and reached into the cart, firmly taking the package of little boy briefs out of the cart. Then he scurried away.

"Dean! Goddamn! Dean come back!"

Sam refused to chase him. He would not indulge the boy. No, he could wait this out. Dean always got bored, no matter how old he was.

And his favorite pastime was always bothering his little brother.

However, if he were to be late home or return home _without_ his brother, or having his brother harmed, Sam knew without a doubt that his father would not be pleased. The man would bare Sam's behind and spank him past guilt and straight into sainthood.

"Dean?" Sam cringed, hating the mental picture he'd just given himself.

Groaning to himself, yet knowing without a doubt that his brother was within hearing distance, he offered up a compromise.

"Hey, bud. How's this? If you're good and we get done within this hour, I'll let you go to the arcade while I finish up shopping, okay? How's that?"

Sam waited listening. He knew that his brother was thinking the deal over and he was pretty sure that the boy would agree. Dean always loved having a hand at arcade games.

"All by myself?" came a small voice from behind him.

Twisting around, Sam was slightly surprised to see the little guy perched up on a display table at around Sam's chest level.

"What are you doing up there?" he asked crossing his arms against his chest.

Dean bit his lip, thinking that his little brother grew up to sound _just _like Daddy.

"Watching ya," he replied with a shrug.

Sam stepped forward until he was directly in front of the boy. Dean was glancing up at him, looking both innocent and slightly anxious.

"And how'd you get up there?"

Again Dean shrugged. But it appeared to have the same affect as it would on their father; making his brother just that much madder.

Reaching over to him, Sam picked him up and not even bothering to look around this time, placed seven quick, hard swats on the jean clad bottom.

Dean "owwed" through it, starting to cry at the fifth swat.

Sam kneeled down in front of him as he set his brother down on the floor. Dean refused to look at him, staring at his feet.

"Dad told you that you had to listen to me, did he not?" Dean nodded, refusing to talk to him.

Knowing that the situation was embarrassing enough, and have a pretty distinct feeling that at least two people were behind him, he didn't force the boy to look at him or talk and accepted the nod.

"And I told you before not to run off, right?"

Again, Dean nodded, clearly remembering back at the store where they'd found the leather jacket by Dean's impulsive urges to dash around the store. The owner had not been very happy and had told Sam that he had to keep a tighter leash on his boy. While Sam had bought Dean his find, he had warned him against doing the same again.

"Then why can't you just do what you promised to do and stick by me?"

Dean shrugged.

"Dean, don't." _Don't push me kiddo. Don't shut me out. Don't act like the victim here, though you kind of are big brother._

Dean looked up at him then, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"I don't wanna shop. I don't care!"

Sam sighed. He knew what his brother meant. He didn't care what he wore, never had as long at it fit him and let him do his job. He had always taken a minute or two getting ready on a date, but mostly Dean couldn't care how people saw him. He just needed Dad and Sammy to know his worth and for other hunters to know he was capable. He wasn't a model for Pete's sake.

Sam passed a hand through the boy's hair.

"Well, you can't walk around naked either, kiddo."

Dean glared at him.

"I already gots clothes!"

Sam shrugged, just to piss Dean off.

"Humor me."

Dean smirked and opened his mouth, clearly intent on doing just that. Sam covered his mouth with his hand.

"Okay, _don't_ humor me. Dude, I'm willing to spend a whole bunch of money on you. All you've got to do is quit running off. Okay?"

Dean bit his lip again, thinking for a second.

"Can I still go to the arcade? Alone?"

Sam groaned.

"Yeah, I guess so. If you promise not to-

"I promise, I won't run out of there. I wanna be there. I won't even bother nobody."

"Anybody," Sam corrected, pulling the boy into a hug.

"Huh?"

Sam lifted Dean into his arms once more, this time set on keeping the boy there and finishing his shopping trip fast.

"It's not "nobody" it's "anybody". You won't bother anybody."

Dean shoved his head away from his brother's chest.

"That's what I said."

"That's what you meant."

"Same difference," Dean said settling back against Sam.

"How can it be the same and still be different?"

Dean groaned, pressing his face further against Sam's neck.

Sam gave a small smile of apology to the two middle aged women that were behind him. Besides them, a young girl of around twelve or thirteen looked at him like he'd lost his mind. Well, not everyone was a fan of spankings; especially public ones. But, John would've done that or worse, so Sam knew that Dean wasn't scarred or shocked from the experience.

Resting his chin on Dean's head, relieved to get double nods from the women (though the girl scoffed at him) when he said something along the lines of bratty little brothers.

Finally, Sam was paying for everything in the cart, including the undies, and Dean was besides him leaning on his leg as he fumbled with a Gameboy that he had scammed Sam into buying for him.

Sam knew that his father wasn't a big fan of them; seeing as how he thought that the boys' free time should be used for research and training rather than rotting their minds on TV or games. Not that he never let them, it was just rarely and far in-between.

Still, he could see Big!Dean using it as well and unlike the clothes, would be worth the money even after the change back.

"Still want to go to the arcade?" Sam asked as he grabbed Dean's hand and tried to balance all the other shopping in his other hand. Luckily, Dean was wearing half of what they had bought, even refusing to take off the leather jacket.

"Yeah, why not?" Dean asked skeptically at him.

"Well, you have your Gameboy now. I thought you would want to play with that instead."

Dean scoffed and shook his head.

"It's not open," he moaned. "And I don't think Daddy's gonna like it."

Sam smiled in spite of himself. He had been thinking the same thing. Especially since he had bought three games to go with it and it had all totaled around $200; games, case, batteries and system. But, he assured himself that Dean would not rot his brain because one of the games was kind of educational. He was sure that Big!Dean wouldn't appreciate that, though.

"Well, you can play in the car and I'll tell Dad I bought it for you."

"You did, Sammy."

Sam nodded.

"Yeah, see, no problem."

Dean gave him a knowing look. He knew his father and he doubted that the man would have "no problem" with it. Maybe no problem for _Dean_, but Sam would still be in deep.

"Sammy, maybe we should-

Sam grinned down at him.

"It's for you, and I want you to have it. We're not returning it. That's final. Now, arcade?"

"Yeah!"

Dean bounced slightly on his toes and tugged at Sam to make him walk faster. Granted it wasn't Dean that was carrying all those bags.

"Hey! Slow down there, tiger! The arcade'll still be there, I promise!"

Dean ignored him and soon they were by the arcade entrance.

Before Dean could slip away, Sam tugged him closer and kneeled down in front of him.

"Listen here, buddy. No wondering and no running off. Are we clear?"

Dean grimaced and reached back, rubbing at his slightly aching bottom.

"Yeah, we're still clear."

Sam smiled and ruffled the boy's hair.

"Alright now, don't forget! I'm going to be right over there and then I'll head over just there okay? I'll be an hour tops. So, play just the games you really want to, but stay away from the bad ones okay?"

Dean rolled his eyes.

"I've seen worst than that!"

"Dean, I mean it! If I catch you on one-

Dean shook his head.

"I wont, I won't!" Again he reached back to rub his bottom, not happy with the added threat to it.

Sam gave him a stern look.

"Okay. I'll see you in a bit."

Dean dashed inside the arcade the second that he felt Sam's grip loosen. He dashed right to the whack a mole, inserting one of the quarters that Sammy had given him. Sam watched him for a second, glanced over the teens inside, hoping that they'll leave his brother alone, but knowing that Dean could take care of himself.

Still, he resolved to hurry back before trouble would a brew.

**_fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl _**

The boys looked at each other, John's gaze never leaving them.

"What? What are you talking about?"

John smirked.

"I want to know which one of you is Fisher and which one of you is Wales," John calmly stated.

"These are adults, sir." The younger of the two stressed.

John nodded, but didn't offer anything up.

"We're just kids, sir."

"Sure, now you are."

Again, the boys shared a look. Curiosity and fear passed through both of their eyes.

"Don't you guys want back? To see your families?"

The younger boy turned to him, mouth wide open. The older boy sighed.

After a second, the younger boy stood up and offered his hand to John.

"Marvin Wales, at your service."

**_fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl _**

Dean loved all the games! He couldn't believe that a place could have so many! Sure, he'd been to an arcade before, but it was mostly one room and they were all games that he had played before.

This arcade was AWESOME! Not only did it have three rooms of games, but it also had a popcorn machine and a small hotdog stand.

Dean was sitting on a bench, gnawing on a hotdog as he stared at one game in particular.

Sammy had been gone for about ten minutes, but that whole time the game had been filled.

But it was still calling to Dean.

He knew what his brother, heck his _father,_ would say and do if they saw him playing that game, but Dean was sure that no one would catch him. Sure, he might not be able to beat it, but he had to play it he just had to!

To Be Continued...

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Oh, I love me the twists!

A/N: I just got a new laptop. HOPEFULLY, it behaves itself and I will be able to regularly update. (I will hold my breath and cross my fingers and toss the salt over the shoulder and get me some charms and ANYTHING so that this thing works out okay forever and ever!)

Please review, so I don't feel so bad about ditching my homework, hehe.


	13. Chapter 13

**Title: Young Blood**

**Fandom: **Supernatural

**Disclaimer: **The characters used are not owned by me. They are owned by the CW and its creator Eric Kripke.

**Characters: **John, LilDean, Sam, Patrick/Kevin(10), Marvin/James(8)

Thanks so much for all the reviews! And to all the new people reading and reviewing, Welcome I'm so glad that you all enjoy it so much:D

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Chapter Thirteen

Patrick Fisher and Marvin Wales listened as John Winchester took them through their files. Patrick was pretty amazed with all the information that "Mr. Roland" had on him. The longer that he had spent being little (and under the name Kevin Williams) the more he had forgotten about himself.

Marvin had been changed for less time. Almost a month now he had been eight and could still clearly recall his 'previous' life. Being that in his adult life Marvin was actual nearing fifty, there was as lot more memory there to keep and a full life to go back to then the simple life he was living now. Seeing a picture of his family in the file really brought back his feelings of guilt and despair.

He wanted back.

Having claimed his name to be James Reilly, taking both of his children's names as his own it was even easier to recall what he had been forced to forfeit. He missed his daughter Reilly's wedding and James had been home from the army for that last month, had probably asked Debra to marry him. And he had missed it all.

But most of all he missed his Annette.

"Mr. Roland," Marvin said, fingering through his file. He was kneeling on the floor in front of the coffee table where John had been sitting before and where both files were now laid out.

Across from him, Patrick was eyeing his own file, reading through certain events that he had forgotten.

John sat on the couch that the boys had abandoned. He watched as the memory of things came back to Fisher while Wales had the pain of seeing what he no longer had with him.

"Yeah?"

"How? How did you know? How'd you find us?"

Marvin was shaking his head, looking intently down at the stacks profiling his life before him.

"Yes, how could you have known?"

"Bout you two? Well, see that's where I was hoping that we could help each other out."

The boys exchanged a look. John knew that look; his sons shared it all the time. Wondering whether to trust, to follow the plan, wondering if the other was ready.

"From what I could gather here, you've both have had a pretty damn good life. It'd be a shame if you had to start another one. You want to go back, be adults again and head back to your families. I think I can help you there."

The young Marvin looked excited. John could tell while he was viewing the files that he missed that life. Probably never imagined that he would ever be able to return to it.

Maybe wondering if he'd be able to find another woman that had loved him as much as his Annette.

Patrick looked a little more skeptical. He had already been forgetting his previous life and probably thought that he had been imagining the whole thing.

"What do you need from us?" Patrick asked defensively.

Marvin shot him a look. It was a mix of confusion and worry. It didn't seem to matter to Marvin what it was that he needed to do as long as he got to go back _home_.

"I'm going to need you two to try and jot down everything that you can remember for me. About the change. When it happened, where you were, what you were doing, anything and everything. Any little thing can help."

"I don't remember that night much, though. What if I can't help?"

John looked down at Marvin. The youthful tone and watery eyes reminded him so much of Sammy.

"You do the best that you can, and I'll help you out any way I can. I know a few people, might be able to get some answers soon enough. But, it'd be a big help if you guys could do this for me also. Think you can do that?"

Marvin thought for a moment before nodding.

John turned his focus on Patrick. The boy was eyeing a photo from what John remembered to be the boy's college graduation. Class of '87. John remembered the young brunette with the warm smile right at Patrick's side.

"Fisher?" John asked, accustomed to using people's last name since his enlisted time.

"Who is it?"

"Who is what?"

Patrick looked up over to him, a glint of sadness in his eyes.

"Who'd you lose? How do you know _this_?" he asked, patting his file.

John sighed.

"My son, Dean. He's uh, he's _supposed_ to be twenty-seven, but a few days ago his brother called me and I came down here to find a seven year old."

"Does he remember?"

John looked over at Marvin and nodded.

"He did. He remembers his brother, which is good since to him his brother should be _three_. He seemed to remember more before, then it just left him."

John heard Marvin gasped. He looked up from his hands and over to the youngest. However, Marvin had turned to speak to Patrick.

"That's how Gary had it remember?"

Patrick didn't seem to recall, so Marvin emphasized.

"Come on, Kev, you must remember Gary. Gary Hallow!"

Patrick nodded.

"Yeah, I remember him!"

"Gary Hallow?" asked John. Bobby hadn't reported back any Gary, none that John could remember.

"Yeah, he was this skinny little brunette. Came in just after I got here. He was so weird at first, muttering about how he hadn't meant to get sucked into being some little kid."

"Right! Then, one day he just started acting like a five year old!"

"But, then the next, he was all weird again. Me and Kev figured he was like us, so we started talking to him."

"Most of the kids here don't really like us, think we're too serious all the time. They've made us take therapy and stuff, but not much. I mean, it is an orphanage."

"Right, but then a week later, it happened again. And when he returned to the older version he got real worried," said Marvin. He stopped talking for a second; thinking and trying to remember back to his old friend.

"Hey, Kev, can you remember what he said that last night? He kept muttering something weird. Like in another language!"

John felt shivers run down his spine. He knew he was close to something now.

"What? Uh, what did he say?"

Patrick thought for a moment. Then he spoke, from memory, eyes closed recalling the event.

"Actiones nostras, quaesumus Domine,"

John stilled. He knew that prayer like the back of his hand.

"Latin," John muttered.

Marvin looked at John.

"Well, it was a lot longer than that, but it was weird sounding like that. It reminded me of church."

John nodded.

"Actiones nostras, quaesumus Domine, aspirando praeveni et adiuvando prosequere: ut cuncta nosta oratio et operatio a te semper incipiat et per ta coepta finiatur. Per Christum Dominum nostrum."

Marvin hopped up.

"That's it! That's exactly what Gary said!"

Patrick nodded. He stood up and walked over to where John now stood looking out the window.

"That _is_ what he said. How'd you know? And what does it mean? Do you know if Gary's okay? Do you know what's going on?"

_**fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl**_

Dean had to wait ten minutes before he got a chance at the game. The older boys had been hogging it, but Dean wasn't crazy enough to go up to them and demand a turn at it. Finally, when it had seemed as if each boy had had their chance at least twice, they gathered themselves up and left the arcade.

Slowly, Dean crept his way to the game. He looked around, making sure that no one was watching him. Fingering the coins still in his pocket, Dean took out two quarters, slipping them into the slots.

The game came to life once more, announcing its quest to the new challenger. Standing on the tip of his toes, Dean leaned his elbows on the surface, bracing his hands on the controls and readied to play.

He could feel his insides excite, the queasy butterflies fluttering around aimlessly within the pit of his stomach. But surely that was from the thrill of the game, the forbidden-ness of the thing.

It wasn't a sign about caution or whatnot.

Certain that nothing would happen to him while he waited on his brother's return, Dean began playing the game. As he pummeled through zombies and maneuvered through the vacant city streets, Dean's only thoughts were of how cool it would be when he was finally allowed to do these things for real.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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So there you have it party people! I hope I answered some questions there (and added a few more to boost!) I tried to post this a few days back, but I think my computer was cranky, lol. Review if you like it! Review if you don't!


	14. Chapter 14

**Title:** Young Blood

**Fandom: **Supernatural

**Disclaimer: **The characters used are not owned by me. They are owned by the CW and its creator Eric Kripke.

**Characters: **LilDean, Sam

**Warnings: **Contains spanking (though not this chapter) and swearing

**THANKS SO MUCH FOR ALL THE ALERTS AND REVIEWS! YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING!! KEEP THEM COMING! (please)**

**HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED THE PREMIERE TONIGHT!!**

* * *

Chapter Fourteen 

Sam walked out of the general store, finally finished with his shopping. His arms were now filled with bags and such and he vaguely wondered how he would manage to keep Dean in line on their way out to the car when he couldn't grab a hold on him.

Walking over to the arcade, Sam noticed that he had actually taken longer than the hour he had told his brother and hoped that the kid would be alright.

But, who was he kidding? Dean would probably not even notice the time.

Still hoping that his brother was okay, Sam entered the arcade, looking around for any sign of the energetic little Winchester.

What he found didn't make him too happy.

What seemed to be the entire collection of teens in the arcade was now surrounding the infamous _Reaper Core IV._ The very game that Sam had told his brother _not _to play on.

So, he could basically bet that that was precisely were the boy was.

"I'm going to kill him," muttered Sam.

Height had its various advantages for Sam, and so it wasn't too hard to look over all the teens heads to see what they were looking at. He couldn't however, seem to find a particular blond headed seven -year old.

Sam groaned. He set his bags by the entrance, hoping that they'd be fine there and planning on killing Dean if they weren't.

The one thing that he had asked the boy not to do.

And he had thought that his brother had been the perfect little angel. What the _hell_ had he been thinking!

Shoving the lingering teens way from the crowd, ignoring the protests, he made his way over to the game console. Sure enough, there was little Dean, playing the most violent game that Sam had ever seen.

Dean was in full concentration mode. He had his bottom lip between his teeth, slight humming to the game tone that couldn't be heard over the cheers and advice of the surrounding viewers, and one toe tapping on the stool that had been brought out just for his comfort.

"Hey, Dude! Get back, people can't _see_ here!" one boy complained behind Sam.

Proving that he was ever aware of his present surroundings, Sam saw how Dean tensed slightly. Still focusing on his game, Dean continued to play the Final battle for another minute and won. He had the highest score that the game had ever managed.

Sam watched as Dean placed the DMW of his initials, along with the cheers of all the kids around him. Crossing his arms over his chest, Sam glared at the back of the little head as it slowly turned around to face him.

Dean had enough sense to keep his gaze down and away as he hopped off of the stool. The kids around them were thumping him on the back, ruffling his hair and all around congratulating the boy.

"Hey, kid, you really do all that with just $0.50?" some kid asked.

Dean twisted up to look over at the kid that had spoken, chancing a quick look at him and than back to the other boy. Giving a quick nod of affirmation, Dean hurried over to stand besides his big brother.

"Way cool!" the one kid yelled.

Sam bent down to be eye level with his brother.

"Nice game you found there," he said sarcastically.

Dean looked down at his feet. He hadn't realized that that much time had passed. He really had just wanted to play real quick, just to try it, and maybe prove that Sam had been wrong in suggesting that he shouldn't play the game. He had just wanted to play until he lost.

But he hadn't been able to lose.

It wasn't his fault that he was such a good shot.

"Sammy, I can explain."

He heard his brother scoff. He groaned. He hadn't known this big Sam for too long, but he was certain that him making that sound wasn't a good thing. Must be like when his Sammy would huff. It meant that there would be little to no changing of his stubborn mind and that there was probably going to be a tantrum soon.

Except, a tantrum to Big Sammy might not be the same as for his Sammy. And Dean figured that it might just be a tad bit painful for _him_.

"Well, I'm going to _love _hearing you try. Come on, let's get out of here."

Dean gave his brother a pleading look, which was overlooked. Instead, his arm was clasped within his brother's ginormous hand and guided back towards the door.

Sam released him only to grab at the bags. Balancing all of their purchases between both of his hands, Sam instructed him to keep a firm hold on his wrist or one of the bags as they headed back to the car.

Dean couldn't have felt more nervous. He was getting all the vibes that he would get from his father when the older man was mad at him. Usually, it ended with him having a very painful session with the man and always accompanied the pleas and reassurances that he would be good and would do better the next time around. Because if one thing was true, it was that Dean Winchester learned from his mistakes.

Once they had finally reached the car, Sam placed all of the bags by the trunk and went to open the backdoor for Dean.

This time, the seven year old gave no complaints. He climbed right into the car, even slipped into the seatbelt without one hint of complaint. Not even a whimper.

Things were not turning out as pleasant as he had hoped when he had convinced himself to play the game.

"Stupid game," he muttered at himself, crossing his arms over his chest.

How did he always seem to find himself in this mess?

Sam refused to speak as he drove them back to the motel room. He was certain that their father would still be out, trying to find a way to make Dean _Dean_ again.

And hopefully, before Sam managed to kill the kid himself.

How in the world had such a brat managed to raise _him_?

Sam had never been allowed to be so bratty. At the first sign of disobedience, either his father, brother, or whoever was around taking care of them at the time would put an end to it. No one seemed bothered to swat at the youngest Winchester. No one thought twice about setting him straight and knocking him back down a few pegs.

So how Dean had managed to get away with such behavior was way beyond Sam's comprehension.

Unless, Dean was doing this just for him.

Glancing at the boy through the rearview mirror, Sam sighed in relief at finding the boy sound asleep. He wasn't used to being the caretaker. Hell, he was pretty sure that if this lasted too long, he would royally screw his big brother over.

And wondering if that would have a long term affect, or just wear off once the transformation back occurred was going to keep him up at night.

Pulling into the highway, Sam vowed that he would be a good as a big brother as Dean had been for him. Granted _he_ had never been such a handful. He had been a delight, really. Everyone was always so happy to have him around. They would always take to him and he was rarely placed in time-out. He had been a perfect little soldier, down to the marine uniforms that they had begged from their father.

Surely, if he had turned out so well, and had had Dean as his main influence; he would be able to provide this Dean with the same sense of safety and comfort that he himself had always felt.

Through all the noise that had caused a diversion between him and his target, he couldn't of been happier. Everything was going quite as planned. The boy couldn't recall their encounter and he was completely open to his instructions.

And that game had given him the insight at just how much the little hunter had retained. Surely, he would be able to lead him to his altar like he had led him to the game's temptation.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Who's liking the twist? Huh?


	15. Chapter 15

**Title: Young Blood**

**Fandom: **Supernatural

**Disclaimer: **The characters used are not owned by me. They are owned by the CW and its creator Eric Kripke.

**Characters: **John, Dean, Sam

**Warnings: **Contains spanking and swearing

**You guys are AWESOME (But you already knew that!) Thanks for all the reviews! I would reply to each one of you, but I just don't have the time. Hopefully, an update more than makes up for it!**

(I know it was just me thinking it, but seeing the last episode, 3.02 with Ben, I just couldn't help but wonder how a 7yr old Dean would have interacted with Ben. I almost wrote a one shot. Heehee. Hope you're all watching the show on Thursdays!)

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Chapter Fifteen

John couldn't believe it. It wasn't rare to hear of hunters' disappearances. Sadly enough, it came with the territory. The only reason that he had maintained himself so informed and connected had been in case something happened to him. He would have hated to leave his sons alone in this world.

Gary Hallows, Gary Hallows. The named seemed familiar to the Hunter, but he couldn't pin it down.

But, whoever Gary had been, the boy had grown up to be a hunter. That was for certain.

Not everyone knew of the Latin prayer for general guidance.

As he drove further away from the orphanage, he couldn't help but wonder what it was that had truly happened to Gary. If the boy had been a hunter, than he would try and find out what had happened and how to fix it.

Maybe Gary had figured it all out.

But, if that had been the case, then why would he leave behind both of these boys? Why would he befriend them, allow them to realize the similarities within their circumstances, and then abandon them?

It didn't sound like any hunter that John knew.

So, whatever had happened to Gary hadn't been what he had planned on happening.

And if that was true, then it meant that a fellow Hunter was in danger. And if John had learned anything from his time in the armed forces, it was that every man in a war counted, and you never left a man behind.

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Sam was just stepping out of the car when he heard his father's truck rumbling back to the motel. Figuring that he could leave the little devil for his father to gather, Sam walked over to the trunk and began pulling out the many bags that he had bought.

He hadn't just bought things for Dean either. He had bought enough supplies to restock their medical supplies, including Children's Tylenol - just in case. He had also taken the time to replace some things that he and Dean had had to toss away, due to too many rips or too much blood stains. His brother and father were pretty much similar in shirt size, so Sam had grabbed a few for the man which he would simply just stuff into the man's bag and therefore bypass any possible reprimand.

As all the bags were finally out of the trunk and surrounding his feet, Sam closed up the trunk and the black truck with a strong presence slipped into the spot besides him.

Their father stepped out of the truck and walked around back it to stand besides his son.

"Hey, Dad," sighed Sam, not able to hide the relief at seeing the man.

John gave him a sad smile.

"Hey, Sammy. That bad, was it?"

Sam tried to glare at the man, but he was just too tired to muster up the required heat needed behind it to deliver the message.

"Need a hand with those bags?"

Sam shook his head.

"Nah, I got them, just grab Dean, will ya?"

Nodding, John pulled the back door open and removed the little boy from its holds. Then, with Dean safely asleep in his arms, he walked over to Sam's side and grabbed a bag before walking over to the motel room door.

Sam gathered up the rest of the bags and followed his family inside.

While Sam worked through the bags, John set Dean back down on the second bed and removed the new clothes from him, replacing it with soft sweats and a loose tee.

Sam felt a slight tinge of guilt when he heard his brother moan in slight pain as their Dad placed the boy on his back to sleep. He watched Dean's form twist onto his side and cringed as an unconscious little hand moved to rub at the sting left there.

John's gaze shifted back to him and he tried not to show any kind of fear at his father's stern gaze.

"Wanna tell me what happened?"

Sam sighed, setting the little boy clothes that he had been folding aside.

"He was being a brat. I warned him to stick close to me and he kept running off on his own," explained Sam as calmly as he could.

What he had wanted to say was that Dean was a hellion and a headache waiting to happen. He wanted to tell on his brother and make his father set the little boy straight.

But, he was an adult now, and was going to behave accordingly. Even if it killed him.

"Want to clarify what that means, son?" John asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets looking for all the world relaxed, yet giving the very real impression of a tiger ready to pounce.

Sam tried to hold firm in his belief of a rational, adult conversation, but he shifted in place all the same. He hated getting that look, and knew that if he didn't answer well enough, that he could very well be in line for some of what he had dished out to his brother.

So, he explained all that had happened, excluding the chance meeting with Dennis and his mother, because Sam should have set Dean straight about that at the start.

He watched as his father alternated between shaking his head and glancing over at the sleeping form of their youngest member.

"Sam, you can't lose your temper like that at him. He's still Dean, but he's just a seven year old boy right now. You were the responsible adult back there, and you can't let yourself go like that. Even," John quickly added, seeing as how Sam was readying to protest. "Even if he did deserve it. Which, okay, it sounds like he did."

Sam slumped back into the lumpy excuse the room had of a couch.

"I know, Dad. I'm sorry. I've just, I've never had to."

His father laughed from above him. Looking up from where he'd buried his face within his hands, he noted that his father was now directly in front of him.

_**fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl**_

John reached out and ruffled his baby boy's soft hair. It was getting too long, longer than he had ever allowed the boys to wear theirs. He wondered if he'd be able to coax the boy to get it trimmed at least.

"Sammy, I know you've never had to deal with a little kid. Especially one like your brother. More experienced people have had a more _colorful_ description of a day with him. But, all in all, I think you managed alright."

Sam blushed slightly at the praise. It was a rare, blue moon of a day when he openly praised his sons. Even rarer that it be something completely and utterly void of anything to do with a hunt.

In all, he had just told his son that he was a good brother. Something that had seemed almost natural to remind Dean about, but that he had rarely told to his youngest. And he saw now, that Sam too had needed to hear the words.

"Thanks, Dad."

Smiling down at the boy, he ruffled the messy hair enough to elicit a groan from the boy.

"Just try and approach him calmly next time. Because he's still pretty shaken up you know."

"Him? Me!"

John chuckled.

"Fine, I'll give you that. But I wouldn't recommend telling him how much he gets to you. He always knew you better than you did yourself, so I'd watch him if I was you."

John walked over to the kitchen and started on some food he had bought earlier that morning.

Behind him, he heard Mary's youngest return to the clothes he'd been tending to. Sam was a tad more of a perfectionist than the other two Winchesters, even to John's military precision.

Soon enough, the hamburgers were ready and John went over to wake his youngest as Sam settled everything for the meal on the table.

Dean groaned as John started to shake him awake.

"Come on, kiddo. Wake up so you can eat," John said softly to him.

"Dudddee," Dean whined, scrunching his eyes tighter.

John raised his eyebrows. Dean didn't call him 'dude', well not the seven year old version anyhow. The older version usually got away with it if he was feeling generous.

Now more anxious for the kid to awaken, John shook his shoulder a little rougher.

"Wake up, buddy," John coaxed.

Dean groaned, flipping onto his back. He opened his eyes looking back at his father.

"Seriously, between the _awesome_ dream I was having and _eating_, this SO could have waited an extra minute!"

"Dean?" John asked carefully.

Probably sensing that something was off, Sam left the table and edged closer to them.

"_Yeah_?" Dean responded, starting to sit up and looking back at him as if he'd lost his mind.

Once he was fully situated, he seemed to understand what was going on.

"SHIT! I'm _still _little?!" Dean announced, flopping back down on the bed. "I thought that'd been a _dream_!"

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It had taken about five minutes, but they had convinced him to get off his sorry ass and eat something. He loved the hamburger, having not have had it in a long time, the kind that he father was actually capable of making that was.

He listened as Sammy and his father went over some stuff before they started hounding at him.

Dean groaned, glaring back at them after they asked him if he remembered what had triggered the change-back.

"I _don't_ know! How many times do I have to tell you guys!" Dean yelled, finally having had it with the round of twenty questions. He jumped off where he was perched on the second bed and started pacing.

Sam and John had seemed startled, probably not having had to actually deal with 'him' for a day now. But the thing was, he didn't like what was happening to him. He HATED not knowing what had caused his change and the constant switches between his 27 year old mind and his 7 year old mind.

And all the questions were making everything just that much more difficult.

"Dean," John said his name in a stern tone, trying to get his attention. But he wasn't in the mode to calm down. And he wasn't in any mode to be talk to like he was a little kid either!

"Calm down, dude," Sam said from his perch on the other bed.

Dean stopped his pacing to shot his kid brother a glare.

"Calm down? Calm Down! How the hell am I supposed to calm the fuck down, Sam! None of us know what's happening to me! You guys think this is cute and all, but its not! What f it's a demon? What if this demon wants me! Or my body, or something! Don't you get it! I cant just ignore the fact that I'm de-aged to a freaking seven year old, damnit! I've got to get back! I'm no good like this!"

Dean had continued his pacing and at the end of his angry rant he was besides the kitchen table. Seeing one of the mugs on top of it, he took it in his hands and in the next second flung it towards the far wall.

He hadn't been thinking when he'd done it, but the second that he heard the crash and saw the ceramic scrambling into little pieces he knew he'd lost it.

He was still staring at the water stain on the wall when he heard heavy steps coming towards him. Dean didn't need to look to know whose they were and he cringed, knowing what was coming.

Like it or not, his father never had had a tolerance for a temper tantrum. Dean hadn't had many as a child, but Sammy had taken to exhaust tantrums from the terrible twos up until he started school at five. A swat or two had worked on the toddler, but by the time he'd turned four, John had had it and had started spanking him when he'd gotten out of control.

And Dean was sure that would be happening to him now.

A second after the crash, he felt his father's hand gripping his arm. His father turned his body so that he was facing the angered man.

"I'm sorry," Dean was quick to say.

"You're sorry?" John repeated, as if testing the word for validity. He didn't seem pleased. "We don't throw temper tantrums in this family, Dean Michael!" he added shaking the little arm for emphasize.

Dean knew enough that he kept his mouth shut at the moment and dint comment about how he had the right to through a tantrum in his circumstance, or that it hadn't necessarily been a tanrum as it ws an _expression of his inner rage._ Because serious, John Winchester would not take nicely to either comment right now.

No comment was his safest bet.

But not safe enough, he realized as he was tugged back a few steps to one of the kitchen chairs behind him. His dad took a seat and then picked him up, settling him face down over his lap.

Dean shut his eyes. He remembered being swatted before, whenever _before_ had been. His littler frame had made the swats hurt more than he had remembered. But, what his dad was getting ready to deliver wasn't going to be as 'gentle' as those swats.

John's hand came crashing down on his backside not a second later. Dean gasped, amazed at the strength behind the blow. Not one to waste time, John followed with another swat, hitting the same spot the first had landed.

"OW!" Dean cried out, finally managing to find his voice. Two more spanks come down on his bottom. "Daaadd! Stop! I'm sorry!"

John didn't answer him, and Dean guessed that the man was mad. The thought caused the little boy currently in Dean fear. He hoped that his father wouldn't spank him out of anger, knowing that something like that would cause him bruising.

The swats landed all over his bottom, leaving no area uncovered. Then, a few landed on the back of his thighs and Dean couldn't hold back the tears any longer.

At the sound of his sobbing, the swats started to come down slower, but Dean couldn't tell the difference. Then John started to talk to him lecturing as he dropped another swat every few words.

"You know how to control yourself better than that, Dean! Losing your temper like that is dangerous! You could have hit someone! You could have hurt yourself! You know better than to throw a tantrum!"

Dean sobbed. His father was right, as usual.

"I kn-know! I'm _sorry!_ Ppleeaase, please stop!"

"Are you going to throw another tantrum?" he was asked, followed by a few swats to his sitspots.

Man! But that hurt! Dean shook his head no, not trusting himself to be able to talk. John didn't seem pleased by the lack of acceptable response. Another swat crashed onto his blazing bottom.

"Ahhh! No, no s-sir!"

"Good, then I don't expect to have to have this conversation again with you," John stated, swatting at him twice more.

"We won't! Daad! Please!"

One more swat came down before he was set on his feet. Instinct took over and the second he was righted, he leeched around his father's neck. He sobbed his sorrows into the comforting flannel, hating that his emotions were all de-aged as well as his body had been.

It was not fair. He was a hunter. A big, tough, badass of a hunter. And yet, one little trip over his dad's knee and he could be reduced to a little boy. Not hat he hadn't been reduced to a little boy as it was.

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John leaned over, gathering the little boy in his arms. He settled him against his chest, rubbing the sobbing one's back soothingly.

Allowing Dean to rant had seemed reasonable, considering the circumstances. The boy had made plenty of great points. They hadn't even told him about Sammy's theory, but apparently, he'd thought of it himself.

However, the second that Dean had flung that mug in rage, his paternal instincts took over. He had never allowed for the boys to act like little brats, and that including _no_ temper tantrums. It had taken a while to drive that message home for his youngest, but Dean had always seemed careful of his emotions.

Apparently, this de-age was payback for all the things that he had managed to avoid when his son _had_ been younger.

"Shh, you're okay now," he whispered into the boy's little ear.

John groaned, hating that he'd had to take Dean in hand. Granted, even if an adult sized Dean had been the one to sprout out like that, he was pretty sure he'd have reacted the same way. Might have been met with a little more resistance, but the ending result would have been the same.

His boys would always live by his rules, no matter what age they were.

Speaking of age, John glanced over for the first time at his youngest. Sam was staring at them, a worried look of contemplation on his face. He frowned over at the boy, wondering what had made him start thinking so hard. Seeing his look, Sam blushed slightly, as if caught looking at something he shouldn't have, and then glanced away.

"I'm _really_ sorry! You didn't have to do that!" Dean whined.

John sighed, noticing his 27 year old's stubborn pride beneath the little boy's reprimanded whine. Sensing that maybe the boy hadn't gotten enough of the message, he released an arm from around the small frame and brought his hands down loudly on the punished bottom.

"Oww!" Dean cried out as he began to weep again. From the corner of his eye, he saw Sam flinch at the sound.

"You want to try that again, son?" he said in a stern tone.

"I'm sorry, Dad! I didn't mean to lose my temper," he replied instead this time. The cold behind the words now gone, leaving behind a sorry young man.

"I know, buddy. You're okay," John restated, hugging the boy close and dropping a kiss into the blond mess of hair.

"And you forgive me?" a little voice whispered besides him.

"Of course I do," he reassured. "It's done with. You've been punished and I know you'll learn from this, right?"

"Yessir," Dean answered. He took a deep breath and finally pulled back from him.

Taking in the sad little face, John could still see the determined look that his eldest always seemed burdened with. He sighed.

"You okay?" Dean nodded, giving him a soft smile. "Ready to talk with us now?" Again he nodded, this time turning slowly away from him and hopping down to the floor.

John watched him as he walked slowly over to where Sam was still sitting. It must feel strange, he thought. Now that he was the youngest, Dean must feel that his relationship and position with his brother was challenged.

But trust Sam to know how to take care of him. As Dean got close enough to touch, Sam pulled him close for a brief second, hugging his brother close. Then he laid him down on the bed on his stomach, patting the small back until they could both see the tension and worries start to leave their youngest member.

John sighed. He stood up and walked over to where Dean had previously been sitting on the second bed. He took a moment to enough the rare sight of his two sons. Not even taking into account the state of Dean. Sighing again, he started to address what he had learned that day. After all, who knew how long they'd have _this_ Dean with them?

TO BE CONTINUED...

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Be Kind and Review:D (I'll still love you all if you don't, BUT it does remind me to update!)


	16. Chapter 16

**Title: Young Blood**

**Fandom: **Supernatural

**Disclaimer: **The characters used are not owned by me. They are owned by the CW and its creator Eric Kripke.

**Characters: **John, Dean, Sam, OFC

**Warnings: **swearing

WOW, I cannot believe so much time has passed since my last update! So, so sorry you guys! Happy December! ll:o) [that be an elf... Yeah, I'm a writer not an artist ;-)

Thanks SO VERY MUCH for all the alerts, reviews, and favoriting! Makes me all giddy inside!

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_**Young** **Blood**_

Chapter Sixteen

Sam listened intently as his father started to go over the two boys that he'd gone out to meet. Apparently, Bobby had been of _some_ help and had mentioned hearing something odd about the two.

His father had gone over to the orphanage and had spent some time talking with the two boys. He confirmed what Bobby had suspected, once the other hunter had heard of Dean's present condition. The two other boys, Patrick Fisher and Marvin Wales, had been adults a few months back. Now they too had been turned back.

And then there was that Gary character.

"I swear," John was telling them, rubbing his hand over his face in frustration.

"What?"

"I don't know, but the way the boys talked about him. I'd swear it was a hunter."

"A hunter?"

"You know him, Dad?" Dean asked. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, half a pint of ice cream in his hands. Because at least being a little kid seemed to have its perks.

John shook his head.

"No, don't know him," he sighed.

"What about…"

"I'm checking around, Sammy. But, from the looks of it, this was just a rookie."

"A rookie that knows the Latin prayer for general divine guidance?" Dean asked skeptically.

"Sounds a little far fetched."

"It's very far-fetched," John comments. "Bobby thinks the guy might have been an apprentice or something."

Dean frowned.

"Brain freeze," Sam smirked at him.

Angry glare.

"Since when does being a Hunter have a popular job base?" Dean asked his father, pointedly ignoring his brother.

John shrugged, leaning back in his chair.

"Don't know, bud. Bobby seems to think that maybe the kid was a tag along. Might have seen something once and then would have wanted to join up with someone."

"You mean, the kid was saved from a Hunter, then he wants to _become_ a Hunter?" Sam asked, clearly not seeing why someone would _want_ this lifestyle.

"They want to be a super hero or something?" Dean asked, serious to a point.

John sighed.

"I'm not too certain on the 'kid' bit, guy could very well be older than the both of you - "

"Is that a joke?" Dean asked sarcastically.

"However, the hero complexity might be right on."

"Great, so we're dealing with a loony? We sure he didn't just put on a cape and think he was Superman while we're at it?"

John glared at Dean, who made a big show of enjoying his ice cream at the moment.

Sam eyed his own sundae before him. Something wasn't adding up, but he couldn't think of it.

"Dad, this hunter, how'd he even catch wind of this? Hell me and Dean didn't even know this was in the _area_."

John eyed both his sons hard.

"I remember. Seems like you two are slacking on your research. Didn't take me or Bobby too long to dig up some missing people and find children's report, put two and two together. Yet, the two of you seemed to have clearly missed it."

"We weren't _looking_ for children or anything like that!" Dean stomped, having the seven year old emotional unbalance again. "We were looking into that stupid witch and counter charms!"

John sighed. He could now see the slight changes that his son's young psyche. Normally, his Dean wouldn't get to worked over a mistake. At least not until the job was done. This little Dean was as jumpy about his mistakes as he had really had been at the age of seven.

"Dean, calm down," he spoke sternly, knowing that he didn't want to deal with the kid's tact so soon after reprimanding him.

Dean had his mouth opened, already about to protest.

"Hey, Dean. Look no one's saying this was your fault, okay? Dad's right _we_ messed up. But, _we're all_ going to fix this. Right Dad?"

John nodded at his young son.

"That's right, Sammy. We're going to find out what happened to you and these other boys. Then, we're going to find a way to get you all back to normal."

_**FislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl**_

The next day, Dean was luckily still Dean. As such, he still agreed to go with Sammy to the park. John had found out that the orphanage took the kids to the park every other day. Yesterday, they had played inside, so he assumed that they would be out today. Finding the nearest park to the place, Sammy led Dean there.

Dean had thought that it would be embarrassing and stupid to go to the park at his age. However, after his Dad more than graciously silenced his protest with a look, he was reminded that there would be nothing odd about a seven year old wanting to go to the park.

So, there he was.

He had promised both his father and brother that, unlike in his real childhood, he would not cause any fights. After the assault on his ass the previous day for a temper tantrum, he was more than careful in his not disobeying again.

Dean shuffled nervously as he watched the children around him playing. He kept close to his brother as they walked over to a shady area. Sam sat down on the grass, leaning back against the bark of a great oak. He pulled out a book that he was trying to read through; it was rather hard to read in the cramped compartments of the Impala and even harder in the motel room with the ever changing Dean/ Little Dean scenario.

Sam was flipping through his book, trying to find the last page that he remembered reading when he noticed that Dean had yet to leave.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"You should probably go play now, you know."

Dean glanced over at the kids playing. There were kids swinging, kids on the jungle gym, kids on the see-saw, kids chasing other kids, there were kids everywhere.

"Um, I think I'll just -

Sam sighed, tossing his book to his side.

"Dude, you were _never_ this shy before. What's wrong?"

Dean shrugged, still watching the happy children moving about.

"Dean? Look, if you really don't want to be here, then you should find these kids and talk to them. Then, we can go."

Dean looked back over to his brother, biting his lip nervously.

"Sammy, I…I don't know what to say."

"To say about what, bro?"

Dean shrugged, taking a quick glance over at the other kids. Deciding that now was not the time to openly revisit his childhood, he took a few steps forward and plopped down besides his brother.

"Dean?"

"This is just so freaking _weird_, Sammy. It's like, I know I'm me, you know? I know that I'm not actually seven and all that. I know who you are and who dad is and all that. But, even knowing that, I'm still looking around trying to find little you. I'm still a little awed at you _driving_. And then," Dean sighed heavily, hating that he was feeling all this, let alone actually talking about it.

Sam watched his brother, listening closely to what was being said. He knew that for his brother to actually be talking, he most really be overcome with a multitude of emotions.

Shifting in place, Sam tossed an arm casually over Dean's small shoulders.

"What Dean?" he prompted further, hoping that if Dean did open up, then he'd be able to somehow help him out. Then, maybe the kid could go over and find some much needed information.

Dean groaned, leaning back against the much welcome support.

"Inside, it's all mixed up and junk. It's like," another sigh as Dean passed a hand over his face and through his hair, an awkward movement for a child so young. "It's like inside, I'm _always_ seven. And that's a bitch-load of emotions. Some, I don't even remember _having_ when I _was_ seven."

Sam, giving his brother a half hug, tried to think of something reassuring to say.

But, alas, he really couldn't.

Sure, they might see a lot of things in their lives, but this was just a whole new kind of crazy.

"Listen, Dean, you know we're going to find something to get you back right? Me and Dad, we're looking like crazy for something. Bobby, Caleb, and Pastor Jim are all looking too. We're going to find something."

Dean shook his head, not too optimistic.

"I don't know, Sammy. I _want_ to believe you, I really do. I trust Dad and all, it just feels different. I'm not young enough to be naïve and not old enough to give up yet, so," Dean shrugged.

"Dean, you know that no matter what, me and Dad will look out for you. You know that right?"

Dean shrugged. Inside, in his heart, he knew that all that Sam was saying was true. But in his (seldom used) head, he couldn't help but wonder what that kind of life would hold for him. _He_ was the big brother, he should be looking out for Sammy, not the other way around.

"Yeah, Sammy, I know," agreed Dean, though he wasn't really certain if he _did_.

Dean took another moments worth of comfort before finally standing back up.

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Sammy. I'm gonna go see what I can find, okay?"

Sam, not certain what had caused the change of attitude but was more than willing to work with it.

"Okay, I'll be right here."

Dean nodded before turning towards the playful children, straightening his shoulders and marching forward.

_**FislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl**_

Walking over to the jungle gym, Dean's favorite playground equipment, he slowly began to climb up. He reached he top, no sweat, to find a little girl perched there.

"Oh, hello," she said tilting her head to the side.

"Uh, hi there," replied Dean, taking a seat at the top. He liked seating there when he was younger. From there, he felt like he could see everything, keep an eye on Sammy and then the leap off was pretty cool too.

The girl looked to be younger than him, five or six years old, with long black hair held up in a pony tail. She had a Dora the Explorer pink T-shirt on with semi-clean white pants. Dean shook his head, wondering what adult had thought that white pants would be safe to wear to the playground.

"What's yer name?"

"It's uh, De-rick, Derrick, yeah. Name's Derrick," Dean said, quick to change his name.

The little girl laughed slightly, the soft little girl laugh, shaking her said every so slowly at him.

"Oh, you lie," she teased, like it was the funniest little lie in the world.

Dean frowned, straightening up and looking her over.

"Did not," he whined.

She nodded.

"Oh yes you did. You did! You lied, wanna know how I know?"

At this, Dean nodded. He considered himself a pretty damn good liar, and to not have fooled a five year was just…

"Cuz you looked down! You did! You looked down when you lied I saw it," she told him matter of factly.

Dean frowned, he couldn't remember looking down, and if he had it couldn't have been for more than a millisecond.

"And what if I did?"

The little girl shrugged. She looked away from him and over the playground. Dean watched her, wondering about this strange child.

"Wanna know my name?"

"Shouldn't tell strangers your name, kid," Dean said, stating what he'd engraved into Sammy's head since the babe could walk.

The little girl shook her head in a 'oh you silly' kind of way.

"But you're just a _kid_, silly," she said, shaking her head still.

Dean opened his mouth to protest. He was _not_ just a kid. But, if he couldn't get himself to comprehend the whole schematics of his situation, how was he supposed to tell it to a five year old. Besides, she was kind of right.

"Well, yeah. Guess so," muttered Dean. "Alright, shoot, what's yer name?"

"Jennafer," she stated, smiling proudly.

"Jennifer," Dena repeated, getting an enthusiastic nod. "Cool, nice at meet cha, Jen."

"Daddy called me Jennie, but Momma called me Jenn_a_."

"Um, o-kay. Well, what do you _like_ to be called?"

Jennifer thought for a second. Obviously, she hadn't been asked that often. When a name finally came to her she smiled over at Dean, proudly displaying her missing front tooth.

"Princess!"

Dean sighed.

"Well, I shoulda seen that one coming," he groaned. Then, realizing what the girl had stated before he tried to casually question her. "Jen, what do you Daddy and Momma call you _now?_"

Dean's watched as the happy little face turned into a sad one. Just as he had imagined, it wasn't just a child's mispronunciation and lack of knowledge of tenses, but an actual fact. They _had_ called her these names, but they didn't anymore.

"Momma and Daddy are _gone_."

Dean nodded, feeling badly that he had even asked the question. He knew that he hated it when someone asked him about his mother. There just was no two ways about it. It always made him feel empty inside, alone.

"I'm sorry, Jennie. I'm sure that they loved you very much. Don't be sad."

Jennie nodded, pouting slightly.

"Ms. Holmes said that too. She's real nice to me. She calls me Jennie, like Daddy did. But Daddy called me Princess, and she don't do that."

Dean, realizing that the girl that he was talking to was actually an orphan from the orphanage, decided to take his chance ad see what he could get out of the little girl. He didn't want to be cruel to her or anything, but a change of topic would also do her some good.

"Jennie, you live at the orphanage?" Dean asked casually. Jennie nodded, sniffing slightly. "Do you see a lot of _silly_ things there?"

Jennie thought for a second. A small smile was working its way back onto that once happy face.

"Uhhuh."

Dean smiled at himself. Kid or not, he really did have a way with the little ones.

"Betcha there's a lot of goofy people there too, huh? Whose the goofiest?"

Jennie smiled big, laughing softly at a memory.

"Dylan. He's silly. He mushed his face into the mashed 'tatoes. And it went up his nose!"

Dean laughed, because no matter what age, that was just a funny image.

"He did not,"

"Oh, yes he did!"

"Oh, that's just hilarious!" Dean said, leaning his arms back and gripping onto one of the bars tightly.

"Yup!"

"Well, whose the weirdest kid you know?"

"Um, Jamie. He's a weirdo. He's always talking about how he misses his Annette and all that. I asked him if Annette was a doggie, and he said it was his _wife_. Ain't that just silly? He's eight!"

_Bingo_, thought Dean.

"Yep, that's weird alright. And, where's Jamie playing now?" asked Dean, looking around the park now for whoever was playing out of place.

Jennie shrugged, shaking her head.

"Oh, he doesn't come to the park. He likes to stay in the library and _read_. That's just _weird_. And him and Kev, they always play this really hard game on the chess mat, and they won't teach me, cuz they're mean and grumpy all the time. But, Ms. Holmes, she tells us not to be grumpy and not to be mean and to be nice and play together. Bu Kev and Jamie play together and I leave them alone."

Dean, amazed that he actually caught all of that, thanked the little seven year old inside him for having had a talkative little brother.

"He didn't come out to play? So, he stayed in?"

"Uh huh. You don't have at come to play, but most everyone does. It's like recess! It's fun. I play with Manda and Ginger all the time! Look see! They're over there!"

Dean looked to where the little girl was pointing. Sure enough, two other little girls, one that was Dean's age and one that seemed younger than Jennie still.

"You wanna go play with them now? I gotta go home."

Jennie frowned, but then she nodded.

"Okay, bye bye."

Dean smiled at her. He turned away, standing on the edge of the jungle gym facing were Sam was by the tree.

"Bye Jennie!" he said back as he leaped of the metal bar, soaring for a moment in the sky. He caught a few looks as he swiftly landed on the floor, avoiding all injuries and rolling to a stop.

"Cool!" a little boy, older than Dean, said as he looked away from the mud he and his group of boys were creating.

Dean smiled, loving the attention momentarily. He'd always had a knack at grabbing attention like that. Now, if he could leave before he found trouble, it'd go down in Winchester history as the perfect visit to the park.

"Thanks," he said, deciding not to stick around like he would have had he been seven to show off and maybe try to teach the other kids a thing or two.

Instead, Dean dashed over to his brother's side, plopping himself down on the elder's lap.

"Umphf! Hey, Dean," whined Sam.

Dean scoffed.

"Dude, I weigh like sixty pounds. Chill."

Sam shook his head.

"You better not have flopped down on me for nothing."

Dean smiled big.

"Oh, I've got someitnhg. Kev and Jamie, the two boys Dad saw, not here. They stayed at the orphanage. Library I believe."

Sam frowned as Dean smiled wider.

"You sure?"

"Yep. Jennie said that they're not obligated to come."

Sam scoffed, of course his brother had spent the time talking to a girl.

"Alright, let's head out then."

TO BE CONTINUED...

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Awww, even little Dean is great with kids. (tear). Review Please! 


	17. Chapter 17

**Title: Young Blood**

**Fandom: **Supernatural

**Disclaimer: **The characters used are not owned by me. They are owned by the CW and its creator Eric Kripke.

**Characters: **John, Dean, OMC Marvin, OMC Patrick, OFC Mrs. Holmes

**Warnings: **None really.

**Feedback: **Yes please!!

Thanks so Very much for all the reviews and alerts! Hello new people! Glad your're all enjoying this. First update of the new year:D Hope you all are keeping up with your resolutions if you made any! (I didn't either, don't worry. I still have the rest of January to make some!) One of mine shall be to update more promptly, but alas life does take a hold on me.

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_**Young** **Blood**_

Chapter Seventeen

"Alright, Dean," John said, parking his truck in the orphanage lot. "Now, you've really got to be on your best behavior, okay? This can get too risky if you let anything slip."

Dean refrained from rolling his eyes. Which would of course be the childish thing to do at the moment.

"I know, Dad," replied Dean. "I won't bring any attention to myself. I won't say a thing."

"Good, I don't want you talking to anyone. I just want you to try and get something out from Patrick and Marvin. Okay? No one else, okay?"

"I got it," Dean said, opening the door.

John followed motion, locking the doors behind them. He'd have to go in as Mr. Peter Roland again, try to avoid Ms. Holmes at all if he could and then get to the duo by himself.

Dean stayed close to him, surprising him by staying quiet and only smiling as responds if he was addressed.

It was easy enough to find the pair. They were in the play room, where John had been led to them the first time. And, again, the two of them were playing chess.

Dean frowned at the two. Talk about not being able to assimilate. Since when did ten and eight year olds _choose_ to play chess?

The younger of the two, Jamie, looked up from the board as he waited for Kev to make his move. He was already pretty certain that he had that game won, but Kevin had proven himself to be quite a strategist before.

"Mr. Roland?"

Patrick Fisher turned around, game now forgotten. He too recognized the man that had been there two days prior. Besides him, he noticed a small boy, one not from the orphanage.

John smiled, nodding at them. He cautiously walked over to them and bent down to be eye level with the two.

"Hey guys, glad to see that particular memory didn't leave you. Think we can talk somewhere?"

Marvin hoped off his seat, grabbing his jacket off the back if his chair. In the orphanage, you had to keep track of your things, least someone decides that they like it better and take it instead.

"We've been thinking real hard," Marvin said, shrugging the light green jacket on. "Trying to remember."

Patrick too got off his seat. Dressed in a hoodie, he did not need a jacket to keep him warm. He stuffed his hands into the front pocket and looked at Dean.

"So? Are his son? The one that, you know?"

Dean nodded.

"We need to talk," Dean said quietly. He was feeling extra bad for these two kids before him. Unlike him, they were not lucky enough to have a family that would not completely freak out over this kind of thing.

"We can go to the backyard, no one there's cause they're all at the park."

"That'd be great," agreed John, taking a standing position once again. "Thank you."

As they made their way to the back door, Ms. Holmes appeared, questioning them instantly.

"Sir? Sir, you can't be here?" she said, coming towards them.

John turned around, just before his arm was grabbed.

"Oh, Mr. Roland! You're here again?"

"Oh yeah, my son wanted to come by and meet the boys. He thought that he would be able to, help them some I guess. Is that a problem?" John asked, looking like he was troubled.

Ms. Holmes looked at the little boy at 'Mr. Roland's' side. He looked innocently back at her. It wasn't very often that she got a chance to see a child with their natural parents, and she found that she did not actually know how to act around the child. And that made her nervous.

She nodded, indicating that they could proceed.

John, placing his hand on Dean's shoulder, lead the trio away from her and out into the backyard. Like Patrick had said, there was no one else there and it was a good place to talk.

Marvin and Patrick headed over to the picnic tables. They sat besides each other, leaving the other side of the table empty for the Winchesters.

Dean hopped up into the other side of the table, John easing down besides him.

"So, Mr. Roland, what do you want to ask?" Patrick said, losing all façade and starting to conduct himself as the adult they all knew he was.

"What do you remember? About the change?"

"Not much, I'm afraid. We've noticed that the longer we've remained in this position, the fewer things that we can recall."

"The files were a huge reset, if you will," added Marvin. "I can't believe how much I've actually forgotten. I had almost started to think that maybe all of the memories were really only dreams. Or fantasies."

Dean nodded, knowing the feeling that the two were describing. Though, it had to be easier for him than what the two boys had experienced. He'd known most of his life that there were odd things occurring all over the place. Every now and again, it was bound to get to one of them.

And, at least he still had his family by his side.

"It's been a month, right?" he asked, wondering if his timeline was still correct.

They both nodded in unison.

"About a week apart as far as we can tell. We hadn't really talked about it before your previous visit," Pat told them.

"Was there something different or special that either of you remember happening before the change?" John asked them, frowning. He really wanted to help all the boys, but reminiscing about the old times. Especially if they wouldn't be able go back to it.

Marvin looked deep in concentration.

"Nothing I've been able to recall lately," Pat said quickly, a little angered at himself. He really wanted to get back to his life. Kevin was all a fraud, but he'd been adjusting to it. Like Marv, he had thought that it might have all been a dream.

"I remember, least I think I remember, it was a little after my wife's birthday. But, I don't think anything happened. That's, that's it," replied Marvin, not happy either that he could not help.

John sighed. He doubted that that particular little tidbit would be of any help. For one, Dean wasn't married. Two, none of their birthdays were near so it couldn't be that either.

Dean and Pat frowned. Both were trying to think if they could remember something along the lines of what Marvin had mentioned. Unfortunately, neither could.

Marvin slumped in his seat. Just like he'd though, he couldn't be of any help.

"That's not really what I had in mind, Marvin. But, I'm really glad that your recalling things. That's really good," John finally spoke.

Marvin nodded.

"I can't remember much myself, Dad," Dean replied, frowning and rubbing his temples. At the moment, he was in his 'older' mindset and so there was a lot of memory to look through. Unfortunately, other than the hunt that he and Sam had been doing, Dean couldn't remember a damn thing. And the hunt wasn't something that he could openly talk about out loud either.

Even though, telling the two 'boys' in front of him about the supernatural really shouldn't be surprising to them at this point.

John looked over tot him and gave him a small smile.

"That's okay, kiddo. Well figure this out one way or another."

Turning back to the other two, John tried to gather as much information with the three collectively as he could.

From what he learned, after talking for the next hour, none of them had been around the same area. All of them had awoken like that and shifted back and forth from one mindset to the other. Seemingly, however, they each seemed to change mindsets at the same time.

The other two had kept to their regular, daily routines - and Dean never really had a daily routine, but he'd kept to what he and Sam had known about the hunt so that didn't give John much else to work on.

But, what ever it was, it seemed to come in tides.

"Well, thank you both for your time. I hope that the next time we meet, it'll be for some good news."

Shaking both of their hands goodbye, John started to leave.

Dean, a step behind his father, stopped suddenly, looking back at the two he frowned.

"This Gary guy, how did you two know that this had happened to him?"

Pat frowned.

"Gary acted weird, like he wasn't really sure what was going on. Like Jamie did when he first got here. I just figured, if it could happen to us two, maybe there were others too."

"Gary spoke funny sometimes," Marvin added. "He'd say weird things in a different language every once in a while. Like your dad did last time."

John, who'd stopped to listen to the conversation, remembered the phrase he'd spoken before.

"It was Latin. He was trying to protect himself."

Suddenly, something clicked for John. He headed back over to them, kneeling down so that he could look at the trio more directly.

"I need to know something, and I want the truth. You say you're not certain whatever happened to Gary, right?" The boys nodded. "But, you're sure he's not here. Like he couldn't have de-aged more or aged a little bit. No one else around here acts _funny_."

"No one else, sir," Marvin replied.

"Then, he must have gone after this thing himself. I think Gary was a hunter, like me and my sons. I think he was after this thing and that it got him. But, what I don't get is how he knew where to go. So, what I'm guessing, and I hope I'm wrong about this, is that whatever this thing is, it was speaking to him. Have any of you heard something?"

The three thought for a second. Then Dean gasped.

"I think _I_ did, Dad."

John, having not expected that, frowned down at his son.

"What? When?"

"I…I think I did," Dean said, now unsure since his dad was more than just a little bit angered at the moment.

"Dean," John said sternly.

"At the mall, with Sammy. I, I think there was something talking to me. I thought it was just me, but what you just said. I…I can't really remember it much, because that was in my, um, _other_ mindset."

"Do you remember what it said?"

Dean shook his head no.

"But, I really wanted to play this arcade game. Really bad. Even after Sam told me I shouldn't play it. And it was like I couldn't lose in it. It was weird, really. I don't know."

John shook his head.

"Something like that happens to you, you tell me!" he growled at his son.

Dean was quick to nod, muttering an apology quickly. His father was a little too _attentive_ lately that Dean didn't feel like crossing paths with him again.

"Now that you mention it," Pat started, bringing the attention back to him and away from Dean. "I think I felt that 'fore. Like a pull I mean. Especially when it's raining. I think…I think it was raining the day that I changed!"

"A pull? Towards what?"

"The first time I went to the park with the group, we were told not to get on equipment near the back. It was raining the day before so it was really muddy back there. I didn't want to go over there, but next thing I know, there I was. Then I was getting tugged out of there and into the van and the counselors were pretty mad at me. I guess I spent a lot of time there too, because we usually spend a few hours there."

John nodded.

"I don't remember anything like that," Marvin groaned, hating that once again it appeared like he couldn't help.

Again, John nodded.

"That's alright, Marvin. Maybe your luck for that. Whatever this thing is, you shouldn't listen to it. None of you. You start hearing things, I want you to call me. We should get going now. You two, take care of each other. And don't go off anywhere alone. Its not safe."

The duo nodded. Dean, looked down at his feet.

"Dean, that goes for you too. None of you are to listen to this thing."

"Yes sir," Dean replied.

Again, they said their goodbyes and finally they headed out and back to Sam. Hopefully, with this new information, they'd be closer to finding something.

To Be Continued...


	18. Chapter 18

**Title: Young Blood**

**Fandom: **Supernatural

**Disclaimer: **The characters used are not owned by me. They are owned by the CW and its creator Eric Kripke.

**Characters: **John, Dean, Sam

**Warnings: **Contains swearing

I know this is short, but it's an essential update!!! That, and if I don't start updating now I'll never find the time!

Thanks for the reviews as always guys! Hello lovely new people!! And DeanBean, I'm sorry, but you should know, things will get worse :(. But I'll make things all better in the end! ;)

Enjoy!!!!

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Chapter Eighteen

Dean was pacing in the shower. Not the best of places to pace, but it was the only place that his family left him alone. Well, mostly alone.

Apparently, no one considered he would actually appreciate some privacy, even if he looked seven.

None of it made sense. Why him? Why Jamie and Kevin for that matter? And this Gary guy? A hunter? Why him too?

And that voice.

He hadn't given it much thought until his father had mentioned the voices.

He should have known.

Cock it up to his seven year old mind and he really was screwed silly.

"Oh God," Dean sighed, loosing his footing slightly in a soapy spot. He yelped, grabbed the hand bar just in time.

He was so not going to lose consciousness when he was pretty certain he'd had a breakthrough.

"Whoah," Dean said, righting his feet firmly in the tub.

Warm water dropped over his head, surrounding him with an eerie presence of calm. He was supposed to be taking a bath, again, but his dad had stepped out to grab them some dinner - early than he was accustomed to, but keeping to Dean's 'bedtime'.

Soft knock on the door and then Sam appeared, not bothering to ask politely to enter or as he opened the shower curtain.

"Hey, what happened? You okay?"

Dean slumped sighing.

"I'm fine, Sammy."

Sam kneeled by the tub's edge, reaching for him and giving him a once over.

"You fall?"

"No. Listen, I had a thought. I think I figured something out," Dean said as he was spun around to make absolutely certain he was okay.

"Yeah? So, you done here? Let's get you dried up then."

Dean sighed, realizing that somehow Sam had found a big brother notch and wasn't letting it go. Sucked that he was modeling his behavior after Dean's initial role. Couldn't technically argue with himself.

"Fine."

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By the time that he was dry and dressed, John was back and Dean was slightly convinced his theory was on the right track.

"Whatever it is, it needs me as a child. I don't think that it hunts kids, because otherwise, it'd be coming after us. And, I hate to admit it, but it's pretty crafty."

Dean sat by the window, glancing out at his precious baby and intently not looking over at his family. He didn't need to see reactions, just needed to get his thoughts out.

Before he changed again and then the thoughts left.

"Crafty? That's your theory?" Sam said, sounding discouraged.

"Whatever this thing did, it didn't do it for itself."

"It's working for something?" John said, frowning at the thought. Things like that were tricky little bastards.

Dean shrugged.

"So, what should we be looking for then here?" Sam asked, wanting to understand so that he could go looking for results.

John moved over to grab his journal from besides Sam, immediately flipping through it. The brothers watched him wondering what he was looking for. Sam had been through the journal like crazy and he couldn't remember one single passage about people being turned into children.

"I think I might have an idea, but I want to call a friend of mine," John said, feeling the boys intense gaze on him. Finding the phone number he was looking for he turned back to look at his sons. "Sammy, you call Bobby, tell him what we're thinking. Dean I want you to start packing up and call Pastor Jim. Tell him we're headed his way and we may be coming in hot."

Frowning, both boys responded with a 'yes sir' and were moving to there respective cell phone while John headed out of the room, his own cell phone in hand and already dialing.

To Be Continued...

Man, I just LOVE this story. It's so much FUN!! Hope you all liked this little ficlet of an update!


	19. Chapter 19

**Title: Young Blood**

**Fandom: **Supernatural

**Disclaimer: **The characters used are not owned by me. They are owned by the CW and its creator Eric Kripke.

**Characters: **John, Dean, Sam, Pastor Jim

**Warnings: **Contains swearing

**Feedback: **Yes please!

This barely moves the plot forward, but it's cute. I like cute :D

On another note, this has reached past 100 pages and breached 32,000 words! I'm soooo proud!

Chapter Nineteen

Dean was sleeping as they drove over to Pastor Jim's rectory. They had called the two boys in the orphanage, Marvin and Patrick, who like Dean had been deaged and were waiting for the Winchesters to get back to them.

Sammy was still making notes and calling Bobby every so often. He wasn't making much progress, but he couldn't just sit there and do nothing. Not when Dean was sleeping so peacefully in the backseat.

John had left his truck in an airport parking lot. He was driving the Impala since he had not wanted to leave them alone and then not be able to hear them or see them. Besides, he knew that Sam wouldn't want to be alone with Dean after the last time that he had to.

"Alright, thanks Bobby. I'll call you back if I find something."

"What'd he have to say?" John asked as Sam flipped his cell shut.

Sam sighed. He wasn't getting as far ahead of things as he had hoped.

"Nothing we didn't already know. He said that he was heading over to see some guy and then he would meet us at Jim's."

John frowned, glancing over at his son.

"Jim? Since when do you call Jim, just Jim?"

Sam looked up from his notes and smiled softly at him.

"Well, last time I saw him I was just a kid. I'm an adult now," reasoned Sam.

John glanced back at him with a frown.

"You ain't adult enough to call him Jim," he responded.

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Fine, _Pastor_ Jim. Which by the way, when I called him he asked if Dean was still, you know _Dean_."

"What'd you tell him?"

Sam looked back into the backseat at the sleeping Winchester.

"Guess we'll know when he wakes up, huh?"

John sighed. That was one of the many things that was worrying him. Dean and little Dean kept switching up on him, normally as they slept, and there was no way that they had found yet to predict it.

The second biggest worry would be the possibility of being followed. He had a doubt, one that Bobby would either confirm or deny them.

He really hoped for the latter.

They were an hour away from the pastor's safe house, until then he was not going to stop and he was not going to say a word regarding anything. There was no need to worry the boys while there was still a possibility that he was wrong.

Dean groaned and twisted in the backseat, causing both Winchesters to turnaround and look at him. He settled back down with a sigh and they relaxed.

John's cell phone rang all off all of two hours two early. And since John made a point to not answer his cell while he was driving, Sam started to reaching for it.

"Leave it," he growled.

Sam's hand stopped inches from the device.

"What? What happened?"

"Just, leave it."

Sam looked at the still ringing phone.

"But, what if it's important?" Sam frowned.

Of course it was important. That was the very reason that John couldn't allow his son to answer it.

"They'll leave a message," he said, hoping that he was wrong. Because knowing Sam he was going to ask to hear it.

"Right." Sam said settling back into the seat. No one called his father, especially if he was with his sons, unless it was important.

And nothing important was something that could be said in a message.

He could feel Sam watching him. He could sense all the unasked questions and was thankful the boy didn't start on them. Sam would just get mad when he wasn't told anything.

"You hungry? How about we go to the next drive through? Or do you want to stop?"

Sam frowned. He could tell his father was changing the subject, especially since John had told him and Dean both that he wasn't going to stop so they better go to the bathroom before they headed out.

"Um, I could eat. And we should wake Dean up anyway, otherwise he'll be up all night."

John nodded and then kept his eyes open until he found the next diner. It wasn't drive through, but a few moments stop wouldn't hurt.

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"This has pickles. I don't like pickles."

John groaned listening to his 'youngest' pick at his food. Dean had awaken with his youthful mind once again but for the life of him, John couldn't remember Dean being this picky when he _was_ seven.

"Fine, give it to me," John said reaching across the table for Dean's plate.

Dean pulled his burger closer to him.

"What are you gonna do with it?" he asked skeptically.

John groaned.

"I'm going to take out the pickles, okay? Then you won't have to have a fit over it. Because one way or another your eating that burger."

Sam watched the exchange with interest. He was between Dean and the exit with John on the other side. It was a weird position for him. Usually, he was the one shoved into the seat first with either Dean or their dad sitting a the opening.

Another odd thing was that for as long as Sam could remember, Dean would eat anything.

Dean frowned.

"It's still gonna taste funny."

John groaned.

"I'll put some ketchup on it. It'll taste better."

Sam was amazed at how calmly John was taking Dean's pickiness. If it had been him, John would have told him to shut up and eat quickly. He didn't know whether it was because it was Dean or whether time had changed his father but it was an odd realization all the same.

"Well, okay then. But, not a lot of catsup. Just a little," Dean said sliding his plate towards his father.

Soon, the three were eating. They maintained pleasant talk, but neither Sam or John wanted to bring up anything because they were never certain of what little Dean recalled.

Dean was so used to moving around all the time that he didn't even question why they weren't at the motel anymore. He had Sammy and his Dad and that was all he ever worried about leaving behind.

"Can I have some ice cream. Just a little?" Dean asked, turning hopeful eyes towards their father as he took his last bit of his cheeseburger.

Sam watched John's negative reply die right on his lips. Dean looked so hopeful, and he really was a pretty good kid, when he wasn't being a complete brat.

And the way that he always asked for only a little bit of something just broke Sam's heart. It was a lot easier to see the cuteness in the kid when John was around, because then he wasn't in charge.

"I guess we can get a small cone."

Dean beamed and Sam smiled just because Dean's was that powerful.

"Thank you, Daddy!"

John smirked, shaking his head. Even though it'd been on and off again the past few days, hearing his son calling him Daddy was just strange. He hadn't been 'Daddy' since Sammy had been about nine or ten and had started on his training.

"And, Sammy too?"

John scoffed. He wasn't surprised at the request at all. Even though at the moment Dean was the little brother, he would always be a big brother at heart.

"Sure, Sammy too."

"It's okay," Sam said quickly.

Dean turned to look up at him.

"You don't want _ice cream_?" the seven year old asked, sounding as if the mere thought was blasphemy. 

"What? No, I mean yeah. Of course I do. Thank you," Sam said quickly.

Dean eyed him, wondering what the hell would make his Sammy grow up to not want ice cream.

"Okay," he said quickly. "I want chocolate and orange. Please," he said back to John.

"Of course," John nodded, summoning the waitress back over.

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"Is Pastor Jim gonna fix Sammy?"

"Me? What's wrong with me?"

Dean frowned. He didn't want to tell Sammy that he thought maybe he was broken. He didn't want to make Sammy cry.

"Is Pastor Jim gonna help, daddy?"

"Yep," John said, keeping his eyes on the road.

Dean was now awake in the backseat. He had finally started playing with his Gameboy and John hadn't seemed to mind too much. For the most part, the games kept the seven year old quiet and that was always a plus.

"I don't need fixing! Dad, tell him I don't need fixing!"

"That's right," John replied, glad to finally see the sign that stated he'd reached Blue Earth.

Sam turned to look in the backseat again, making sure that Dean had caught what had been said. But the little boy was already back into his game.

"Is he gonna make peas again? I hate peas."

Again, Sam frowned. Not that Dean was a very healthy eater, but when he had been younger Dean had never outwardly argued with anyone about what was placed in front of him.

"Doubt it," John replied. He turned into the long road that lead to Jim's private lands. It was at least five miles before they actually got to the main house, but already they were in safe, holy land. "But whatever he gives you-"

"I know, I know," mumbled Dean paying only his Gameboy attention.

"Good. Then I guess the attitude knows to leave too right?" John asked glancing at the rearview mirror to give Dean a hard look.

Feeling the hard gaze aimed at him, Dean looked up through his long stands of hair and gave his father a wide smile.

"Yes Daddy."

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Pastor Jim was very happy to see the Winchester men. It was very rare when they stopped by. He hadn't seen them all together in years.

Dean and John had been there a year prior, but Sammy hadn't been there since the last Christmas before he had gone to college.

Dean rushed over to him and gave him a big hug. The pastor was a little startled, but he quickly regained his composure and hugged the little boy back tightly.

"Pastor Jim! How are you?"

Jim kneeled down, holding the jumpy child by his shoulders.

"I'm just great, Dean. You are well? You seem much, better than when I last saw you."

"Yeah! I'm seven now! I was much littler then! But Daddy says that I was a lot bigger. Sammy can drive now and he's really tall. See?"

Dean turned around pointing at his taller little brother. Jim smiled as he looked up at the now middle Winchester.

"Hello Samuel, great to see you well," the pastor said as he straightened up and opened his arms for Sam to step in.

Sam returned the hug, tightly holding onto the man. He always felt safe and happy when they were around the man. He was always so calm and smart. He had called him a few times since he had been able to reach California, but it wasn't the same.

"It's really great to see you too, Pastor Jim."

"Jim," John said stepping up between his sons. Holding out his hand, which Jim quickly shake before pulling the oldest Winchester into his own hug.

"Good to see you still alive, Jonathan!"

Soon they were all in the Jim's and settling down for dinner after tossing their bags into the spare rooms.

The night went pretty easy, Sam had kept Dean pretty busy until his bedtime. They weren't sure if Dean was going to wake up as himself or as his little persona, but it was clear that he was being a little boy more often lately than he was the older version.

John and Jim went through Sam's notes and gathered up some of Jim's book that they thought would be helpful. With Dean running all over the place with very little regard of what he bumped into to, they weren't going to risk starting their research with him still awake.

"You all set?" John asked as Dean stepped out of the bathroom.

"Uh huh. Bath, teeth, and PJs," Dean said pointing each out before smiling up at him.

"Sounds like you're all set," John said grabbing a towel from inside the hall closet. He dropped the towel over Dean's wet head and picked him up.

"Yep. All set," Dean repeated, reaching up to try and dry his own head.

When they stayed at Jim's Dean and Sam shared a room with a King sized bed. John's room had a Queen and a desk jammed into it and he usually spent his time in there researching. Luckily, unlike the last time that his two sons had been there together, neither Sam or Dean would mind sharing the bed.

Once John was certain that his hair was dry enough that he wouldn't wake with hypothermia, he pulled the covers back and helped Dean slip underneath them.

"Okay, Daddy. Good night. You can go with Pastor Jim now."

"Yeah?" smirked John tugging the sheets up to Dean's neck and tucking Dean in tightly.

"Uh huh. Go make Sammy little again. He's so bossy when he's big. I'm not gonna let him get big ever!"

John laughed, thinking that would been a wonderful thing if it were ever possible.

"Deano, we've told you already, it's not Sammy that's big. You're little. And you have to be extra careful, okay. If something happens, anything at all.

"I know, Daddy," Dean said rolling his head and sighing heavily. "I tell you or Sammy or Pastor Jim or call Uncle Bobby or Caleb. I grab a gun and keep safe!"

John shook his head ignoring his son's pleased smile.

"You grab any gun, and your bottom is toast. We clear?"

"Aww," groaned Dean, sinking further into his sheets. "But, I'm big! You just said!"

"No. I said we need to make you big again. You're little and the rule still is that until your at least ten years old, your not to handle a weapon alone. Understood?"

Dean pouted. He liked the idea that if he was big, especially since Sammy was so big, he should be treated big too.

"But, I'm big," he repeated, wondering why his Daddy didn't seem to get it.

"Not quite big enough," John said smiling as he kissed Dean's forehead goodnight and standing up from the King bed. "And I'll go tell Sammy to not be so bossy, okay?"

"Fine. Night." Dean replied, still pouting, closed his eyes to sleep.

"Goodnight," returned John as he shut the light off and headed down the stairs. Hopefully, by the time that Jim convinced Sammy to head up to be, they'd have made some leeway.

To Be Continued...

I love little Dean! Hope you all enjoyed! Please review! Thank you! 


	20. Chapter 20

**Title: Young Blood  
Fandom**: Supernatural  
**Disclaimer**: The characters used are not owned by me. They are owned by the CW and its creator Eric Kripke.  
**Characters**: John, LilDean, Sam, and PJim  
**Warnings**: Contains spanking (though not this chapter) and swearing  
**Feedback**: Yes please!! Please please please!! :D

A/N: Well, here's a new chapter! It has a few clues as to what is going to happen, so be on the lookout! Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Twenty

The following morning found the two elder Winchesters sitting around a desk, diving right into their research. Both were eager to find something, anything, that would shed some light onto what was going on with their now youngest member.

All but Dean that is.

Sitting at the kitchen table eating his waffles, Dean was less than happy to note that everyone seemed a little too involved with the readings. Even Sammy was all into the books and that was not fun at all.

No one was any fun anymore.

"Chew with your mouth close," mumbled Pastor Jim, not quite up to his calm and happy self when he hadn't yet had his coffee yet.

Dean looked away from the other room where his family was and frowned at the pastor.

"Wha?" he asked through a mouthful of waffles and syrup. He had clearly heard the cleric, but he was grabbing his fun where he could.

Jim was not pleased.

"Dean Winchester, I doubt I'm going to need to tell you again. You've been taught manners, use them."

Dean slumped in his seat. There was just no winning for him that day.

"Dean," came his father's voice from the other room.

Dean sighed, twisting around again to look over at his family in the study.

"Yeah Daddy?"

"Excuse me?"

"I meant, _yes_ Daddy."

"Don't give Jim no trouble, got it? He's not cut out for dealing with a little guy like you anymore."

"What are you insinuating, Jonathan?" Jim asked from over his coffee mug.

"He means you're old, Pastor Jim," Dean 'whispered' to him matter of factly.

Sam laughed looking up from his notes to look at his 'little' brother. The seven year old was back to eating and didn't seem to notice the cleric's glare on him.

"Thank you Dean Michael," said the man sarcastically.

"You're welcome," Dean replied as he once again spoke through a mouthful of his breakfast.

Jim Murphy sighed. There was just no working with the Winchesters.

"I give up on you guys," he stated, standing up and grabbing his coffee and newspaper. Maybe he'd even head out to the church early and leave John with his boys.

"Aww, now Jim," John grinned back at his old friend. There was just something about testing the calm man. He knew that they could never really anger Jim, the man like them - well the boys more really - too much. He appreciated their company and he liked having the boys' energy around.

"Can it, Johnny," he growled as he passed the study and headed into his living room. Maybe there he could find some peace.

"I love you Pastor Jim!" Dean yelled out at him.

"Love you!" added Sam, joining in for the hell of joining in.

"How can you say no to that."

"It is a Winchester gene to annoy!"

"Yes," all three Winchesters replied.

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The morning had John sending Dean out to the vast yard in the pastor's property. The two brothers had grown up going all over the grounds that his father didn't even think twice about it.

Dean was happy enough to leave the studious trio. Though there was no helpful companionable dog like there would be at Uncle Bobby's, it was still truckloads better than having to _read_.

There were a few places on the grounds that Dean particularly liked. The sucky part was that most of them were off limits to the young boy. Daddy had always stated to him that he couldn't go beyond hearing distance. Which was okay, really, but it kind of sucked because it seemed liked all the really neat places were just beyond that boundary.

But as Dean came up to the giant oak tree that was one of John's markers, he realized that his daddy hadn't gone through those particular rules this time. In fact, he'd just shove him out the door and told him that someone would come get him for lunch.

He looked back, making certain that no one was looking in on him. The last thing that he wanted was to get into trouble before he even did anything wrong!

"Daddy, Sammy, Pastor Jim? Anyone? I'm going to pass the oak tree!" Dean announced, just to be sure.

No one replied, no noises came from anywhere that wasn't nature itself.

Dean grinned. It seemed like nothing was going to stop him. Goodie.

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Sam was wondering why he hadn't headed out with his brother when he had had the chance. He was starting to envy the care freeness that was granted to the youth as a result of neither their father or Pastor Jim wanting the seven year old to know so heavily about the things they were after.

One thing was for Dean to grow up knowing that there was something out there, another was knowing exactly what those things were and looked like and how many of them especially liked little children.

"There's just so many of them," Jim had told them. "I'm not even too sure of where to start.

"Just get out what you do have, Jim. We'll grab from it what we will."

"Well, there's a little bit of something in just about every book I have, John."

"I can help you, Jim," Sam added, wanting like the two men before him to just dive in and start helping.

Jim frowned at the tallest Winchester.

"Excuse me?"

"Sam," warned John, eyeing his son. He had already told the boy that there would be no such unearned and ungranted informality.

Sam sighed. He didn't get what the big deal was. His dad called Pastor Jim, Jim. Maybe it was because Jim only had a few years over John and decades over him. What he _did_ know was that if he didn't change his footing fast, his ass was going to pay for it.

"Sorry sir," Sam said quickly. He looked over at his father and then at Jim, _pastor Jim_ he reminded himself quickly.

"Respect, Samuel," chided Jim with a smile. Something he and Dean didn't get but what he was used to doing.

"And you watch your attitude while you're at it, mister," added John as he used an all book with dust all over it maroon hardcover to point at his son's nose.

"Yeah, okay. I know. Sorry," Sammy said quickly with a heavy sigh.

Jim nodded, seeming to except his words and then return to his thumbing through books of different levels.

John however took that final step forward and was standing along side his son. Sam took an involuntary step back and held in a deep breath. From that closeness a few swats landed not all that damaging at Sam's backside and hip.

"We don't have time for that, Samuel," John growled giving Sam his patent 'don't make me lose it or you'll pay' look.

"Yes sir," Sam said quickly, all hint of impatience and insolence now gone.

Yeah, he really should have gone outside with Dean. Damn it.

A few minutes passed with each man looking into a separate book and making notes. Everything that they read was just giving them more ideas and possibilities and nothing was really giving them a lead of any sort.

And then, John's cell phone rang.

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Dean was right. Just like always.

Past the oak tree, he made his way to a group of bushes that he had always thought would be a great little hideout.

He gathered up a few twigs and branches and made himself a little stack, just like he'd seen Daddy and Caleb do all of the time when they went camping. He didn't have Sammy with him to collect the rocks, but soon enough he had a small circle surrounding his stick pile.

He smiled, proud of his fire pit.

Now, Dean didn't have any matches and he cursed himself for not thinking ahead. His Daddy would be _so_ disappointed. He knew that there was a way to make fire from just what he had around him. He needed to make a spark! He remembered Daddy making that fire just last summer, and then Caleb was blowing on it and it had made him and Sammy laugh. They both looked so silly, but in the end they had made a fire. A real, burning hot fire!

Grabbing two twigs, Dean started to rub them together. Nothing. He got on his knees and put more muscle into it. Still nothing.

This fire making thing was a lot harder than he had imagined it to be.

Dean sighed. He glanced back over to the oak tree and stretched his little neck until he could barely make out Pastor Jim's house.

Daddy didn't want him back until lunch, and he wasn't hungry yet, so he still had some time left. But if he didn't make a fire, he was going to be really bored really fast. And you can't play camping with no fire!

So he stood up, nodding to himself in agreement. There were matches all over the place in the house, and if he was really sneaky, maybe he could grab some marshmallows too!

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Sam was the first to notice a certain little someone entering the house. He was leaning back in his seat, thumbing through whatever book he was currently reading through. Well, he was _pretending_ to be reading anyhow.

Not that he didn't want Dean to be himself again. He did. He wanted that desperately, especially with the amount of time that Dean was in his little mentality. It was driving Sam insane, regardless of how adorable Dean looked now.

John noticed next, because there was no move that his boys did that he didn't catch on. He lifted his head and watched the doorway that led into the kitchen. He waited to see if his son was going to make himself seen, but after a few minutes it seemed lie that would not be the case.

"Dean! Come here."

The silence was shattered by the clashing of pots and the moaning from the other room was more than enough to give the little boy up.

Dean reappeared, shuffling slowly into view.

"Oh, you guys are still here?"

John shook his head while Jim snorted. They had forgotten that given any age, Dean still had a bag full of smart remarks to make.

"What are you doing in there?"

"What? In there? Nothing."

"Lying to your father is a sin, Dean," Jim said, frowning at the young boy.

Dean bit his lip looking at the two men fearfully. The Winchesters weren't heavily religious, but somehow when they lived at the pastor's place, it was just that much easily believable.

"M sorry," he mumbled.

"What were you doing?" repeated John.

Well, Dean wasn't about to confess that he was searching for matches. He'd never hear the end of it.

"I got bored," he shrugged.

"What were you doing?" John asked, leaning back in his seat and giving his son a stern look.

"Just playing," replied Dean with another shrug.

"And I assume you stayed within the confines that have previously been established for you?" Jim asked, noticing the little shuffle that was always a tell-tell sign that John's boys were up to no good.

John frowned and then realization hit him. He had forgotten all about those rules and hadn't warned Dean against them as he would have normally done. Knowing his little rascal, Dean had most definitely breached the rules.

And damnit, he should have remembered.

"No," Dean answered a little too quickly. The frown on both of the adults faces almost made him turn tail. "Not _really_."

"Dean," Jim said shaking his head.

"I didn't think I had to remind you of the rules, son. You've known for a few years now up to where you're allowed to go."

"That's not fair!" whine Dean, crossing his arms. "I'm not little anymore!"

Sam frowned, wondering if Dean was switching back. He was still acting little, but maybe he was remembering.

"Don't even try that, mister!" John said. "As long as you look little, you'll act accordingly." And since you can't be trusted outside, you can go straight up to bed and wait until you're called down."

Dean's jaw dropped open. Go to bed?! He _hated_ going to be early. Especially since he was more or less being sent up to nap. A nap!

"Daddy! No!"

"Perhaps something else to do would be more appropriate, yes? Something productive."

Dean frowned. 'Something productive' was Pastor Jim talk for some chore that the cleric had been neglecting.

"I'll nap, that's okay!" Dean said, moving to turn towards the stairs and head straight to his room.

Sam cringed. He clearly knew what those words meant too. And he also knew that his dad wasn't going to let such an opportunity slide.

"Dean," John said sternly, but he was smiling even though Dean was turned away from them.

The little boy sighed as he turned back to face them. He realized now that he should have stayed outside. He would have gotten a spark eventually.

"Yes Daddy," Dean replied, though he really didn't look like he wanted to know.

"I doubt that you're going to actually go up to bed, so you can cut the act, little man."

Dean slumped where he stood.

"Okay. Do I still have comic books? Any toys? I can play my Gameboy!"

"Or, you can do what Jim here needs from you."

"I'll stay in my room!" Dean tried. "I won't leave it for nothing!"

"Jim?"

"I was thinking that it's been awhile since I've rummaged through the attic."

Dean gave the pastor a hard look. Even Sam was cowering at the thought. Jim's attic was not a welcoming environment.

"Aww!"

"Think a little spring cleaning might help it, Jim?" John asked keeping his eyes on the fidgeting boy before him.

"Jonathan, that is a brilliant idea."

"Nooo," sighed Dean covering his face with his hands.

"Go on then, try and work through Jim's hectic excuse of an attic."

Jim sent John an unholy glare. John returned the look with a wide, dimpled grin.

"Why? Why, why, why…" Dean mumbled as he made his way, slowly and stomping, to the stairs.

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The attic was as dusty and full as Dean had always remembered it to be. Just great.

Dean sighed as he tried to make his way around the mess. And that's all it was, piles upon piles of mess.

"Pastor Jim must be _old_," Dean concluded, seeing as how he couldn't imagine another reason for someone to have so many things.

"Oh, he's going to love that!"

Dean turned around and was a little startled to see his 'little' brother standing at the doorway.

"Sammy?!"

"What?!"

Sam made his way into the attic, sidestepping a bunch of things that he wasn't even too cure what they were.

"Dad sent me to check on you."

Dean frowned.

"He sent you to check on _me_?"

"Hey! I'm offended!"

"_I'm_ offended! You're _my_ little brother!" Dean frowned and looked away from him.

Sam sighed.

"Dude, don't get like this. Come on! You're still my big brother," Sam said coming up besides him and smirking even as he spoke. He did still think that Dean was his older brother, just a smaller adorable version of his older brother.

"No, I'm not!"

"Yeah, you are. You're just little now. But dad and pastor Jim are going to find a way to help you. And you know how those two get. They won't rest until you're my older, annoying pest of a big brother," Sam said, ruffling Dean's hair.

"Hey!" Dean remarked, shoving his brother's hand away. "You better hope I don't remember this when I _do_ get bigger!"

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Dude, your memory is so bad, I'm surprised when you recall your own name."

Dean frowned, and Sam could have smacked himself. Of course at three years old, he hadn't mastered teasing his brother just yet.

"Huh?"

"Um, never mind. So, you want some help?"

Sam and Dean both looked around the attic.

"How long til lunch?"

"Least two hours," sighed Sam.

"Why'd Daddy really send you?"

Sam smiled and looked down at Dean's knowing face. And to think, he didn't lie that often at three as it was.

"I was kind of pissing him off."

Dean shook his head.

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy," he sighed, getting up from where they were both sitting on the floor. Standing in front of his brother, Dean was just above eye level to Sam. "Don't ya know better? If you're gonna bug Daddy, you've got to be cute about it!"

Sam started to laugh.

"Oh man! I really hope you do remember this! I'm going to _love_ seeing your face when you realize you just said that!" Sam said, grabbing Dean in a quick hug. Dean returned the hug, because little Sammy was very affectionate.

They worked together in the attic for ten minutes before they both decided it was pointless.

"This is pointless! It's always messy. It has always been messy and from all the times we've had to be up here, I can tell you this isn't going to help."

Dean slumped down on top of a pile of blankets.

"Do we get into trouble a lot?"

Sam smirked at his brother before giving him a slight nod. Compared to other children, he and Dean had a whole manual of rules that they had to live by growing up. Unfortunately, each one of their 'uncles' also had a few rules to add whenever they were around. In the end, it was sometimes just too much to remember and one or both of the brothers ended up in trouble.

Dean sighed.

"Am I gonna go back? Am I gonna remember anything? What if Daddy can't make me big, Sammy? What's gonna happen to me?"

Sam walked over to the blankets and sighed. He wasn't sure what he was going to say to that. He knew that Dean would always be taken care of. He would never allow something bad to happen to him and neither would their dad.

"Why? Don't you think Dad will find a way?"

Dean frowned. In his mind, he had undying unwavering faith for his father. But there was something around, lurking in his mind.

"I dunno."

"You remember something? Did you hear something? Dean, if you heard something you better tell me!"

Dean shook his head.

"No! Honest!"

"Then what is it?"

Dean shrugged. There wasn't anything that he could say because he didn't know what it was that he was thinking.

"Hey! How about we go outside? Daddy won't notice."

"Aren't you a little too young to be wanting to get me into trouble?"

Dean smirked wickedly at him.

"Good to know you never remember," Dean winked at him. "Come on! We always get in trouble right?"

Why Sam went along with _that_ argument will forever haunt him.

To be Continued...


	21. Chapter 21

**Title: Young Blood  
Fandom**: Supernatural  
**Disclaimer**: The characters used are not owned by me. They are owned by the CW and its creator Eric Kripke.  
**Characters**: John, LilDean, Sam, and PJim  
**Warnings**: Contains spanking refrences and swearing  
**Feedback**: Yes please!! Please please please!! :D

A/N: Finally after a very long wait, here's a new chapter! It has a few more clues as to what is going to happen, just to keep you all on your toes! There's even a hint to the slution (kind of in a not really sort of way).

Thanks so much for the reviews and favoriting and alerting! You guys are fabulicious!

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Twenty-One

Dean led his brother down the side of the house, maneuvering around the roof until he got to a point where the two story drop would be easiest to land.

It disturbed Sam more than a little that the seven year old knew how to escape so effectively already.

Before he could stop him, Sam watched little Dean dive off the side of the roof and towards the ground.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, rushing as fast as he could on a roof over to the side so that he could look down.

There Dean was, safely tucked into a protective ball.

"Dean!"

"Sammy! Chill! You wanna let 'em know we gone?"

Sam groaned, shaking his head.

"You're crazy!"

"Get down here!"

Sam quickly and effectively made the jump, landing easily besides the youngest Winchester.

"Alright, let's go!"

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Jim looked through one of his many demonology books, written completely in Latin. The books had been a part of the church's long history, and like the house Jim had inherited them when he had taken up the job oh so many years ago.

Having lost his sister to something no one could ever explain to him, and then all he had seen while he was overseas during the war, Jim wasn't the least bit skeptical about what he didn't understand. After all, his whole profession was based on faith.

Along the years, his collection like his knowledge had grown. He just hoped that it would all be enough to pull Dean through whatever was happening to him.

"Sonuvabitch!"

"Language Jonathan," Jim mumbled, not expecting his old friend to mind the reprimand in the slightest.

"I can't find a damn thing, Jim! This is insane, there has to be something. There's always something!"

"Patience, John."

"Patience? Really, Murphy? That's your advice? Patience? And people pay you for that?"

"My advice streams more from our friendship and my intimate knowledge of how you Winchesters cope when you can't control things."

"And what's wrong with shooting things?"

"There's no problem with you taking out what the law enforcement overlooks. And once you find your target, I know with certainty that you will do just that. Until then, Jonathan, you will have to confine yourself to the research and maintain a close eye on your boys."

John sighed. He absolutely hated when Jim made sense. Especially when he was trying to calm him.

And he hated when he managed to actually do just that.

"Sonuvabitch," he groaned, picking up another one of the various Latin collections and starting to flip through it.

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"Where are you leading me, my fearless leader?"

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Just try and keep up you!"

Funny as it was, Sam was kind of finding it a bit hard to keep up with the younger boy. While his longer legs should have given him the speed advantage just by length alone, Dean always seemed to have extra energy stored up somewhere.

And the forest really wasn't 6'5 friendly.

"Ow! Grr! Gah!" Sam growled, moving another branch away from him before it hit him on the forehead again.

"Keep up!"

"Can't you pick a better path! Gah!"

Dean stopped and watched Sam rub at his forehead. He stifled a laugh and shook his head. It was funny to think that his little Sammy could grow up to such a clumsy man.

"Come _on_, Sammy! You're no fun whining!"

"Hey, it's no picnic for me either, okay. You want these damn branches smacking _your_ head?"

Dean frowned.

"No. Sorry, Sammy," he replied.

Sam sighed. He was having quite a bit of a hard time remembering that his brother wasn't used to their normal banter. At three years old, he would have worshipped everything his brother did and his father could never do a thing wrong.

"It's okay," Sam said, ducking under another branch and coming up besides his brother. "I know you don't mean it."

Dean nodded, glancing up seriously at him.

"You have to be extra careful, cuz I can't see that high for you! I'm sorry I made you eat all my vegetables," apologized Dean as he gave him a quick hug and then turned to keep walking.

Sam shook his head smiling. Before Dean could get too far, he pulled his back and gave him a tight hug.

"You're forgiven," he told him, ruffling his hair before releasing him. Only his brother would think that the cause of his height was the result of his having to eat two shares of vegetable servings on the rare occasions that the Winchesters even had them as a part of their meal.

As they headed further into the woods, Sam was so interested in where his brother may be leading him that he never noticed them passing the limits that their father had long ago put for them.

And Dean was glad.

But a little something in the woods was even gladder.

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"Bobby said that he'll be here tonight. I hope he's made more progress than we have."

"Did he mention any such progress?" Jim asked him, not bothering to look up from his current book as the eldest Winchester reentered the room.

John sighed, slumping back down into his seat.

"No," he needlessly replied, his actions having been answer enough. "But you know how he is too. He won't say anything of importance on the phone. You never know who or what can interfere with those things."

Jim nodded, flipping a few pages since he hadn't found anything of use to Dean in his current section. He did however have a pretty good sermon building up in his mind.

John dropped his face into his hands and groaned. He couldn't help thinking that he was failing his sons. He knew that the longer that Dean spent as a child, the harder it would be to change him back. The thought that there was a another demon specifically targeting his family enraged him, but rage wasn't going to give him answers.

"Damnit!"

"Everything will work out, John. You have to believe that," Jim said looking over to his friend and wishing he could say more.

John nodded, his head still in his hands. He did need to believe, he knew that his friends would not give up on his son. He wouldn't give up on Dean either, and he had yet to ever fail.

"If you start doubting, Samuel and Dean will soon doubt in us too. And then nothing will be able to be accomplished. You know how most of these things work, half of the battle is not succumbing to the demon itself. You believing in yourself, in your friends, that will help Dean so much the greater. Those boys have faith in you, and some still in me and Bobby, we can't let them down."

"You're right Jim. And I don't doubt any one of us. I think maybe I'll try and look more into who was the hunter that those two boys met in the orphanage. That might give us some more clues."

"Great idea. You heading to the library then?"

John nodded, standing stretched and nodded at his friend.

"Got more of a chance there than here."

"Well, it might be the best plan for Samuel to aide in. He strives in research, you should take him along. And while your there, you can return a few things for me."

John smirked and nodded.

"Yeah, Sammy would help. But then you'll have to keep a sharp eye on Dean. I really don't like that he's heard voices already, Jim."

"As long as he remains on the property, he will be safe."

John scoffed.

"Yeah, I'll try and hurry back."

"Much obliged."

John headed towards the steps, heading to the attic. If his troublesome duo had made some progress on the chaos that was Jim's attic than that would be one hell of a victory.

He wasn't surprised to not see them in there, figuring that they had both rather of headed to their room. However, the opened window and the distinct hand and shoe markings in the dust on the ledge told him otherwise.

"I'm going to _kill_ them," he groaned, slapping an old cabinet and causing a few things to tumble out of it. Oh well, he had larger fishes to fry.

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"Dean, where are we going? Do you even know?"

"Geesh! Where's you sense of 'venture, Sammy?"

Sam scoffed. His sense of adventure had been paddled out of his behind many moons ago, and he was getting the distinct feeling that he was on the path to a refresher course.

"Sorry, think I lost that somewhere in the attic."

Dean looked back at him with a wide grin. He laughed as he moved on forward.

"You're funny!"

"Well, I kind of learned that from you. There were just a few techniques I picked up in order to survive you!"

"Me! What'd I do?"

"Oh no! I'm not going to give you any ideas?!"

"Aww, come on. Can't do you no harm now!"

Sam glared at the back of the little boy's blond floppy hair. The truth was, he had no idea if it could damage something in there past and he was not going to take any chances. Not when his hide had already been in jeopardy too many things as it was growing up.

"Dream on, little man! I'm not giving you any more incentives! Far as I know, you could already be doing things, and you're just lucky I'm too little to recall."

"I'd never do nothing to hurt ya, Sammy! Don't cha know that?"

"I know, I didn't mean that you would. But you have a way of getting me in trouble. Like now, where the hell are we?"

"You curse a lot! Sammy, you shouldn't do that."

"Excuse me? Who was having a cursing fit when we went shopping?"

"Well, I can cuz I'm older. If Daddy heard you like you talk, He'd have a zoo!"

"What?"

"A zoo! A zoo, Sammy! More than just the one cow! And, well, if you do something bad,_ I _get in trouble. Daddy won't spank _you_."

Sam groaned. If only his brother's memory was still true. Luckily, the kid hadn't been privy to the couple of swats that his father had handed out to him. He didn't want to ruin his brother's image of him in any way.

"Well, if you don't want to get Dad mad, we better head back now. You don't want them to notice that we're gone do you?"

Dean opened his mouth to reply, but then he stilled. He could feel something cold around him. It was creeping him out and he wanted to rush over to his brother, but he couldn't more.

In his mind, he saw an image. It flashed with what he knew was really in front of him.

He wanted to go there, wherever it was. He knew that it held secrets, but he didn't know what. He wanted so badly to know.

_How do I get there?_ he thought.

And suddenly the answer came to him, almost as if a whisper. The seven year old smiled, he turned around and without another word, he made a mad dash towards a path only he knew.

"Dean! DEAN!" Sam yelled, trying to follow him. He had noticed his brother get stiff for a few seconds, and it worried him as he had started to approach the younger boy, Dean had smiled, turned around and dashed away.

Panic sprung up in Sam's chest. They were deep in the woods that surrounded Pastor Jim's home and the trees were think. He could hear his brother's insistent footsteps getting further and further away from him.

When a branch he hadn't spotted smacked him dead in the stomach, Sam dropped to his knees. He tried to get back up, but either from his trying to catch his breath or something else, he just couldn't get up.

From behind him, he could hear another set of footsteps, heavier steps and far away. Sam struggled to breath even more. He felt as if something was wrapping itself around his chest, constricting his ribs.

The footsteps grew closer and he could no longer hear Dean steady progress.

Sam was alone. And soon enough, unconscious.

To be continued...


	22. Chapter 22

**Title: Young Blood  
****Fandom: **Supernatural  
**Disclaimer: **The characters used are not owned by me. They are owned by the CW and its creator Eric Kripke.  
**Characters: **John, Pastor Jim, Bobby  
**Warnings: **Contains swearing  
**Feedback: **Yes please!!  
**Archive**: Please Ask Me, I rarely say no!

**A/N:** So? Long time, yes? I had so many alerts, reviews, favoriting, etc. since the last update! I'm so glad that you all love this story almost as much as I like writing it for you!!

I know this is short, but the next chapter is almost done, and this has a pretty neat ending :)

* * *

Chapter Twenty- Two

Bobby Singer pulled in besides the familiar black Impala. He was damn tired, but he'd finally made it to Jim's and that was what mattered. Hopefully, he'd get in a few hours before he was really called upon to offer any advice.

He got out of his truck, grabbed his bag from the backseat and started to head towards the porch when John and Jim both came out.

"John!" he called out, seeing as the man jumped the steps and started towards the woods behind Jim's house.

Bobby frowned.

"The boys. They've seemed to have left unnoticed," Jim explained quickly.

Jim followed John's path and, after tossing his bag through his car window, Bobby pulled out his own weapon and joined the search.

Nothing like two AWOL Winchesters to bring in some demons, he reckoned.

"SAM! DEAN!" John was yelling as they all looked around the threes and tried not to notice how much further away from the protective wards around Jim's they were heading.

As John yelled to his heart's discontent, Bobby and Jim spread out, keeping all within a comfortable distance from each other.

They'd been looking for a good ten minutes and they hadn't spotted a thing.

Which was kind of good, but not in a way that would placate anyone just yet.

The thing with Winchesters was that they'd kind of made their name known in the Hunters world, and stepping outside of the protections that were placed around them was like lighting a beacon to any demon within range.

Luckily, Jim had set up some sort of one protection or another that the whole city was basically protected. But if there was a certain one already pining for them, so much so that John feared they'd been tailed there, it might be enough to get through.

"SAMUEL! DEAN!"

Bobby couldn't see a damn thing out of place. The whole woods around them were quiet, but for the natural sounds of nature.

Silence never boded well for hunters.

"SAM!" John yelled and stopped walking, looking around for any sign where his sons might have headed. "DEAN!"

Bobby had the horrible thought that his relaxing rest that he'd been looking so forward too for the past two hours might soon become a far off dream. But where the hell could those two had headed off to?

The longer they were searching, the more probably that something had happened to those two. By now, they'd know they were in deep trouble, but those two wouldn't have shied away because of that. They knew when to face up to things. And if things were as odd as he'd heard they were, with Dean littler than John's waist, then they knew that danger was near.

"DEAN! SAMMY!"

Bobby strained to hear if there was a response or movement. John was going crazy yelling his head off, but he and Jim were trying to hear a response.

Bobby couldn't hear a goddamn thing but the wind.

But apparently ol' Jim had.

"Shh," the pastor said, looking off into the distance.

Bobby stilled, his right boot heel stopping before it touched the ground and his body locking into place. He'd learned long ago that stopping meant stopping.

The only thing that Bobby allowed himself to move is his eyes.

He saw that Jim was looking off into the distance and tried to see what he was looking at, but there was nothing there.

John hadn't yelled in five seconds, so he figured that his friend had too noticed that the clergy had spotted something.

"Jim?" John asked, coming closer to them slowly so as to not disrupt whatever Jim got.

"Think I heard something," Jim said, taking a short step himself.

Bobby took that as a good enough sign that he could move.

"Jim?" John asked again, now looking towards where Jim was.

Bobby turned to look to the same place that they were. He still didn't see a damn thing. But he didn't doubt that Jim did, he knew better than to ignore anyone's warning. Better to be safe than sorry.

"Hear that?" Jim said softly, stopping again.

Bobby stopped, turning his head to look over at John who was besides him. John was frowning.

"Moaning?"

"Sounded like it."

It was now his turn to frown. Why the hell didn't he hear a thing?

"Crap!" Bobby said, rising his gun to aim.

Beside him, John followed. Ahead of them, Jim tensed.

"What?"

"Think I saw something. Big. We better move, cause it didn't look good."

The three hunters all moved, John heading and Jim and Bobby keeping the rear. They moved as quickly as they could, getting closer to where Bobby had seen …something.

John looked around, trying to see everything and move fast. They were just about to the spot where they'd all been looking when John stopped.

"Holy shit!"

TBC...

**Speculations anyone? Drop me a line!**


	23. Chapter 23

**Title: Young Blood**

**Disclaimer: **The characters used are not owned by me. They are owned by the CW and its creator Eric Kripke.

**Characters: **John, PJim, Bobby, Sam

**Warnings: **Language, violence,

**Feedback: **Yes please!!

Thanks so Very much for all the reviews and alerts! Each chapter seems to bring more and more people around, so thank for all of you who have been reading, and maybe telling your friends. I appreciate it a lot!! Glad your're all enjoying this. Here's some more story for you! Hope you enjoy it!!

* * *

Chapter Twenty – Three

"Holy shit!" John said, slacking his position for a second before he straightened up his stature.

Jim moved up beside John, Bobby maintaining his curiosity and keeping the rear.

"Oh, Good Lord," Jim said, looking upon the sight.

"Jim?"

"Blood Bobby, something was attacked here."

Or someone, John thought, feeling his stomach tightening.

"Where'd you see it head off to, Bobby?"

"Shouldered off to the right there," Bobby motioned, ignoring the tight sound of John's voice.

"Let's move."

**_fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl_**

Sam groaned, awareness coming back to him. For an instance, he couldn't remember where he was or what had happened.

He could smell the earth beneath him, so he knew that he hadn't fallen asleep at his bed or anywhere in the house. When had he left?

He remembered Dean, vaguely aware of them having been in the attic and slipping away. Then they went…where had they gone? They woods! That's right, Sam had followed Dean into the woods.

Dean had been very persistent, edging him onward and then he'd…where had his brother gone?

Sam began to open his eyes, slowly as they had to adjust to the darkness that he was in. When had the daylight turned to night?

As his eyes adjust, Sam's memory also came flooding back. He'd been following his brother until the younger boy had stopped and then took off. Sam had tried to follow him, but he'd gotten knocked out. By a tree no less.

Sam groaned, seeing the small area he was in. Instantly, he tensed. This was not where he had gone down.

Sam bit his lip, not wanting to yell out in fear of what might be around him. Light seeped in between the vast trees that surrounded the small clearing that he now laid in. it wasn't a lot of light, the trees were tall and thick together, but it was enough for him to note that at least for the moment he was alone.

Every molecule on Sam's body was now on full alert. Where the hell was Dean?

**_fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl_**

The hunters moved in tight formation. This time, there were no shouts to their stray youth. They did not want to bring any attention to themselves.

No one wanted to say it, but it was on all of their minds. While the amount of blood that had been on the ground a few yards behind them wasn't deadly, it still caused the trio alarm. And it could very well have come from one of their two MIAs.

Through John's mind, every instant that he had seen either or both of his sons hurt was passing through his mind. Every instant that he had endangered their lives and had brought them to the very doorstep of evil kept replaying in his mind.

He feared that this time, he had finally failed his sons.

Bobby walked towards the back of their group. He didn't want that beast thing, or anything for that matter, to sneak up on them. He trusted Jim and John with his life and he knew they had his back.

In reality, Bobby was taking the position so that he wouldn't be the first to see the wrecked body of one of their own. It was his greatest fear, losing one of their own at a hunt. The feeling was made tenfold when it came to the Winchester boys. And good lord, they hadn't even been on a hunt.

The sight of the blood had alerted them that, like seemed to be customary with Winchesters, there was trouble about.

For his part, Jim was keeping his mind on what they were doing, and nothing else. He was pretty good at keeping emotions to the minimal. Otherwise, he'd been knee deep in tears every time that he had to bury one of his parishioners or had the honor of marrying two of them.

As a hunter, Jim had long learned that while on a case, you couldn't let your mind wander. And while they had not stepped out of his house with this in mind, they had come prepared.

Jim was confident of the protections he had placed around his home. He would never want to endanger his life, or bring hunters needing guidance and rest to a place where they needed to be alert. His home had always been known for its safety nest, so he was bewildered to think in terms of what might have gotten through the protective barriers.

It was one of the clergy man's customs to go around the town, offering blessing to the people he met up with and greeted as well as murmuring the reinforcements to the charms he had long placed in his reclusive town.

Of course, there was the possibility that whatever had caused that blood to spill hadn't been of the paranormal sort. And if that was the case, then Jim sent another prayer up, wishing he understood the workings of the human mind just a fraction more.

**_fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl_**

Sam got up on his against the nearest tree and leaned his back against it. He was panting weary of having had to just practically crawl over to the spot. His knees felt raw and his hands felt strained. There was a few insistent itches from his face that he was more than pretty certainly were scratches, but he wasn't going to touch them with his dirt crusted hands.

Otherwise, Sam reasoned he was in pretty good shape.

Sam continued his surveillance of his surrounding area from his spot. He couldn't see a path leading to where he was and it was pretty dark that he couldn't be sure it there were any drag marks on the floor from where he'd been taken from.

He did however spot a darker area of behind where he'd been.

Frowning, Sam got up slowly to his feet and moved cautiously towards the area. He reasoned that if Dean were there, he would want to find him not rather than later, even if he didn't have a weapon and had even less of an idea of where he was.

He didn't think calling out was a smart idea. If there was something, or someone, else that had brought him there, then Sam didn't want to alert them that he was awake.

Dried leaves and small twigs crunched under his feet as he moved closer to the dark area. He knew that what he was doing was against everything he was taught, but he didn't see another option. Not when he was almost through convincing himself that Dean had to be over there.

As he drew closer, Sam noticed that he was getting colder, it could have been from the darken area, but knowing Sam's luck, he was certain that something not so alive was heading his way.

He got into a defense position, but he had nothing to defend himself with.

Wooosh

Sam whirled around as a gush of wind came from behind him and chilled up his spine.

Waaah whoooosh

He turned back around facing the tree he'd been leaning on. There was certainly something surrounding him. Sam's heart was pounding, heart in his ears.

Waaaaaaaaaaaahhh whhooosh

Sam flipped around, chill air hitting him in the face. He was closer to the dark area now, but he could barely see in front of him.

Whoosh wahhhhhhhh

Sam was panting, turning in full circle as the wind rustled the leaves, hit his face and ruffled through his hair.

"Who whose there!?" he tried to yell, but his throat was tight and nothing came out. Sam began to panic.

Wahhhh whoooooshhhh WAH

"Show yourself damnit!" Sam yelled, hoping like all hell that whatever it was wouldn't actually do just that. Because he didn't have any way of protecting himself or much of an escape plan either.

WHOOOOSH WAAAH

"Show yourself or leave me the hell alone!"

WAAH WAAAAHHH WIIIINCHEEEESTEEER

Sam stopped looked around and froze.

RUUUNNN

**_fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl_**

As the trio got followed along, they spotted a few more specs of blood on the ground and a few places that looked like they were the sight of a scuffle.

They tried to ignore the second hour slipping by as there still was no sight of anything promising from the boys.

John was feeling himself start to panic as they spotted more and more specs of blood. He was sure that it was one or both of his sons that were bleeding and he wanted to find them ASAP. Thinking about how defenseless Dean was at the moment, the possibility of what was happening to his was mind numbing.

"John," Singer grunted from the back.

Jim and John stilled. They glanced back over at the other hunter.

"Whatcha got, Bob?"

"Quick movement, rustling sounds. Looks like there might be a clearing over there."

Jim stayed still as John backtracked over to Bobby and looked over where the man was aiming his weapon to. He pointed his gun too, as Jim kept his sight trained around them. John waited a bit to catch what Bobby had seen and four minutes later, he heard the mumbling too.

John nodded at Bobby, glanced back at Jim and the three quickly moved towards the area.

But as they drew closer, while they were encouraged by more mumbling and groans, they also heard heavy breathing and what sounded strangely enough like a large dog lapping at some water. The sounds were deeper, sounded like they were coming from a ravenous creature and it was dangerously close to, if not directly on, whoever was groaning.

John moved ahead. The thought that a creature was possibly eating at one of his children propelled him onward.

The maneuvered around trees, dunking under thick branches and jumping overgrown roots.

The search party reached the clearing to see the opening to a low, in ground cave-like niche being guarded by a feasting creature that was the one responsible for the noises.

John glared at the creature as it looked up from its meal. Jim and Bobby glanced around the clearing as they tried to spot where the groaning was coming from.

The dog-creature barred its teeth and began to growl at them. John frowned as he listened to the sound echo back over to them.

"The sound's bouncing off the cave. We've got to get in there."

"The groans."

"Oh Lord," Jim sighed, preparing to cover his friends as they prepared to kill the creature.

And just then, it leapt out towards them.

TBC...

(I'm gettting pretty evil with these cliffies right? Sorry, I just find them so exciting! Thanks for reading.)


	24. Chapter 24

**Title: Young Blood**

**Disclaimer: **The characters used are not owned by me. They are owned by the CW and its creator Eric Kripke.

**Characters: **John, PJim, Bobby, Sam

**Warnings: **Language, violence,

**Feedback: **Yes please!!

Happy October Everyone!! Hope you're all still enjoying the story :) Thanks for all the reviews, alerts, and favorites!! You guys are the sugar to my frosted cakes!

* * *

Chapter Twenty – Four

Sam was running. Hard and as fast as he could. Everything was dark, so for all he knew, he was running in circles.

The 'wind' was close behind him.

_WAAH WAAAAHHH WIIIINCHEEEESTEEER_

No matter how fast he ran, Sam felt the thing getting closer to him. He was trying not to look back, knowing for all intense and purposes it would only make him run slower. And knowing his luck, he'd just up and trip on something or fall down a hole while he was at it.

_WHOOOSH_ _WAAAHH_

He could hear his blood pounding in his ears, coursing through him in intense speeds that were almost blocking out all others sounds.

_WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH_

Sam knew his feet were pounding into the ground, stealth otherwise forgotten and easily followed. He couldn't care less as he dodged by another tree and wondered when in the hell everything got so dark.

Either none of this was real, or he'd been knocked out for over three hours. And if that was the case, where in all the world was Dean?

**_fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl_**

BOOM BOOM

John reloaded his shotgun as Bobby and Jim took aim and fired. He didn't have the time or patience to worry about some damn creature. He had to get to his sons, had to know that they were safe.

After a combined twelve rounds the creature lied on the ground a mere five feet from where they stood. It wasn't even completely dead yet as it twitched and hissed out at the world at large. One of Bobby's shots had gotten the thing dead in its right eye, so there was little chance the thing could even see them, which certainly didn't mean it didn't sense them.

"The hell was that?"

"Quite like nothing I've ever seen," Jim told the gruff salvager. They stood back, taking surveillance of their area as John took the few steps forward and looked the damn thing over.

"Damn it!" John hissed, jumping back as the partially blinded creature hurled towards him, teeth barred and salivating.

Bobby was quick to shot at the thing's right front paw, causing the creature to collapse forward onto its face.

"And stay down, damnit," Singer growled, twisting to continue looking around them.

"Looks like an overgrown mutt," John told them.

"No mutt I've ever seen."

Bobby should know, he raised quite a bit of animals in his place, dogs mainly as they were damn good hunters and exceptional companions too. And they'd always kept John's boys busy, which was always a plus.

"'Roids?"

"You think someone creature this this thing, Jonathan?"

"Don't know what I think. Don't have time to think."

John stood back up, backed up from the creature, lifted his shotgun and shot the thing clear in its head. The second shot went straight to its heart.

"Let's go check out that cave."

Bobby moved forward, glancing uneasily at the thing as they started to followed John down the sloping ground and closer to the cave's opening. Jim kept their six and they followed John, listening all the while for the creature to reanimate, more of them to appear, or most preferably one of the boys calling out to them.

**_fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl_**

He'd always thought that he was a pretty fine runner. He'd never been on the track team or ran in any competitions, but every school that had offered gym had told Sam that he had some strength in his legs. Running as far away from things as was humanly possible certainly had to account for that.

Still, as the wind continued to his at him and the darkness kept it so that he couldn't see more than just three feet in front of him, Sam was almost certain that all his strength and speed was going to end up being no use.

_WHOOOSH WAHH WAAAAHH_

He was huffing now, breathing so hard that he was certain he was losing oxygen to his brain. He was getting tired and he'd been running for what felt like hours and was probably coming up on the first. His hands were clenched tight most of the time, but they'd had to come up instinctively each time he came face to face with a tree or a branch and there were plenty of nicks bleeding and itching on them.

_WAAAHHAHH WINCHHHEEEESTEEERR_

He hadn't seen anything as of it, but he could still hear the thing. It, whatever it turned out to be, knew him. Whatever was after him wanted to be after him. And if not him, then someone in his family. Someone like…Dean.

_MMMMMMAAAH MMMMMAAAASH_

Suddenly, Sam stopped. He did what he had avoided doing the whole time he'd been running and started looking around.

_MMAASH MAAAHH_

_MIIIINNNEE_

And just like that, Sam awoke once again, heaving in air in a pitch dark room.

TBC... Okay, it's short. But it's good, right? :)


	25. Chapter 25

**Title: Young Blood**

**Fandom: **Supernatural

**Disclaimer: **The characters used are not owned by me. They are owned by the CW and its master creator Eric Kripke.

**Characters: **John, PJim, Bobby, Sam, LilDean

**Warnings: **Language, violence, more plot twists

**Feedback: **Yes please!!

Wow, I can't believe it's been a year since I've updated! My hugest apologies. I'm blaming the new niece, who was born a few weeks after the last update and has taken up my time ever since. Seriously, I haven't even slept for the past three days more than four or five hours. At least I got to write more, right?

Hope you're all still enjoying the story :) Thanks for all the reviews, alerts, and favorites!! Hi to all you new folk! And eveyone that's been hanging in there, thank you.

* * *

Chapter Twenty – Five

Dean moved as fast as his little legs could move him. In his mind, he knew that he shouldn't be running off, alone and into the woods. His Daddy was going to be _so_ mad at him!

But, he just had to keep moving forward. He just had to.

Dean was getting close. He didn't know what it was that he was getting to, but he could feel that he was getting there. He was feeling happier, or something like it. He was finally getting to where he needed to be and he was making good time.

His feet slapped against the ground, kicking dead leaves and small twigs away from his path. He didn't even notice them. He didn't notice anything.

He was breathing heavy and his arms were flaying as he made his way through the forest, dodging trees and following a path only he could see.

**_fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl_**

John Winchester hated the damn woods. It seemed like every crap ass thing ever was either living in the woods or damn near to them. Hell, Sammy probably had some theory about crap like that but all John wanted now was to be miles away from these particular woods, both his sons in tow, hopefully at their right size and mentalities.

Goddamn dog creature leaping at them. Probably more than one. Probably chasing his kids. Wanting to bit them. And Dean was now small enough to fit nicely into that damn thing's mouth.

He was going to look into get trackers implanted into his sons, damnit.

"Oh, dear," Jim said as the neared the cave's entrance.

Not the kind of thing that you want to be hearing before you go into a potentially inhabited and dangerous encasement.

"What?" he turned, glaring in Murphy's direction, but it was clear what had caught he pastor's eye.

Bobby knelt down by the boulder, frowning at the dark encryptions on it.

"Can make any heads or tails on it, Singer?"

"Some," Bobby's voice was sounding confident, and that troubled John.

"And?"

"Not liking what I see. Think it's Arabic, old stuff though. Maybe protection?"

"Maybe?"

"Not likely," Jim said, his voice grave.

Both Hunters turned towards their friend. Unlike John and Bobby, Jim hadn't moved any closer to look at the new development.

"What?"

"Dark magic, Jonathan. That there is written in blood." Jim's eyes left them and instead focused past them. With his gun, he pointed the other hunters towards his other discovery. "And those there are yarrow flowers. Summoning flowers."

Well. Crap.

**_fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl_**

He was so close! Dean was getting excited now. He knew for sure that he was going to get his answers and everything was going to be great real soon.

He just needed to find the old cabin and head inside.

It had been hours since he had been at Pastor Jim's, and it was starting to get dark and cold, but Dean wasn't openly aware of this fact. He'd long forgotten that he had been out there with Sammy, and the fact that he wasn't supposed to be seven years old right now or running around alone was a foggy memory that would soon slip away as well.

All Dean was sure of was that he was getting pretty close to the cabin, and he'd only ever remembered feeling this excited last summer when Daddy had let him shot out of his Wesson. And more recently back at the arcade.

**_fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl_**

The Hunters moved through the cave slowly. John was taking point again. Behind him, Bobby and Jim were shinning their flashlights. John hadn't come that prepared this time. In fact, he wasn't prepared for anything at the moment.

The shotgun in his hands had actual shells in them. Jim's gun had blessed rounds, as did most of the holy man's weapons, and John wasn't even sure what Bobby's rifle was loaded with. Might be the new salt laced packs the man was trying or some of those old iron rounds that he Caleb had recently done for Singer.

Either way, what really troubled John was the fact that he had no idea what the hell they were after. They'd been lucky to get that over grown mutt out of their way, but in a cave with something summoned, John was trying desperately to not over think how unprepared they were.

He really just wanted his boys back with him.

**_fislSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLSPNLfisl_**

Sam sat up, gasping for air as his eyes began to adjust to the dark. He didn't know where he was or what he was doing there, but he was pretty sure that he wasn't supposed to be there.

He brought a hand up to his head, feeling the constant thumping inside of it. He wondered if he had been struck or something.

Then he remembered.

_Oh, God. Dean!_

Sam tried to get up, but a blinding heat sprung up his left leg. Pain, intense pain. Probably broken.

"Ahhh!"

Not good.

* * *

TBC... Soon!


End file.
